


But I Go On Pretending

by Old deeplyshallow (deeplyshallow)



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeplyshallow/pseuds/Old%20deeplyshallow
Summary: As a child she had always wanted to be whisked away by a prince to a faraway country until her father had pushed it out of her. Sometimes she thinks she married Ted because of this – the ultimate act of teenage rebellion. But the USA, she found, was not quite the fairytale kingdom she imagined nor had she realised her prince would come at a price. R/B/T AU
Relationships: Robin Scherbatsky/Barney Stinson, Ted Mosby/Robin Scherbatsky
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	But I Go On Pretending

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on fanfiction.net: 15/5/14

**This is AU obviously, but sort of follows the show's events, however timing of said events and ages and stuff have been mucked around with.**

xxx

"So I met this complete jerk at MacLarin's today," Ted tells her almost as soon as she enters the apartment.

"Really?" she asks, greeting him with a kiss, "What did he do?" knowing Ted he probably just insulted his hair or something but still – she's three days into a weeklong alien watching story on Metro News One and it means long, tedious nights interviewing loonies who think satellites and airplanes are UFOs. So (more importantly) she finishes work too late to go to the bar; she needs something – anything, from her friends.

"Well it all started when he came up to me at the urinal," Ted begins – and Robin can already tell this story's going to take a long time, "he told me some lie about his deaf brother and then said he was going to use it to pick up some chick. He then pretended _I_ was his deaf brother when the girl came over."

"Did you tell her that he was talking rubbish?"

"Yes, in sign language – she gave him a fake number – he still doesn't know."

Robin smirks, Ted's good fun sometimes – she's got a feeling he's going to ruin this moment with continued rambling though.

And sure enough, "but seriously, what he said to me! He insisted he was going to 'teach me how to live' said he'd be my wingman."

"Did you mention that you were married?"

"Yes," he replies indignantly, "but he didn't pay any attention – he told me marriage was stupid, that given how pathetic I looked you were probably fat and ugly (especially when I said you were Canadian) and then he told me to wear a suit," he pauses for a second, "oh and he said my hair made me look like a lesbian."

Robin tries hard to hide her smile because, she's never noticed it before, but maybe Ted's hair is a little lesbian-y – she's not worried at all about the wingmanning thing, she knows Ted won't cheat on her, their relationship is far too comfortable and loving. She's a little more concerned about the fat and ugly comments but this guy clearly hasn't seen her or he'd never say a word like that again.

Ted rambles on for another half hour in intricate detail about the meeting and how much of a douche a guy in a suit is, she tunes him out content to listen to his voice in the background while she concentrates on other things.

It feels like just another night. If she'd know what this was the start of perhaps she'd have paid more attention.

xxx

Ted comes home the next day with another rant. Apparently the jerk guy was at the bar again. He'd walked straight up to Ted and told him off for still not wearing a suit ("As if I'd wear a suit," Ted moans, "what kind of idiot wears a suit to a bar? Suits don't even look good on people!" Robin nods with a look of amused sympathy.) and then promptly spent the whole night encouraging him to pick up women at the bar ignoring Ted's protests about being married ("He said marriage made you impotent and anyway it's not cheating if you're wife's not in the same room as you or as not hot as the chick you want to pick up.") After finally giving up on Ted he tried telling ridiculous lies of his own to get a woman to go home with him.

"Did it work?" Robin asks.

"After about the fifth time he got a drink thrown in his face," replies Ted dryly, "I suppose the law of averages has to work in your favour at some point."

xxx

The stories of the jerk at MacLarin's continue all week. When Marshall and Lily come round on Friday night they have their own tales of him to tell.

"He's disgusting, he spent the half evening describing the sex he had the previous night in graphic detail," says Lily in a tone which implies she may have been a little less disgusted than she's making out, "and the other making lewd remarks at me despite the fact he _knew_ Marshall was my boyfriend."

"And then offered to wingman for me as well – in front of Lily!" adds Marshall

"He sounds like quite a character," Robin says.

The others nod in agreement.

"You say he thinks Ted's just making up the fact he has a wife?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Well either that or that you were really ugly considering how needy and lame and mediocre looking Ted is."

"He said I was a four! When, as we've all previously discussed, I'm an eight and a half."

"I'm pretty sure we said you were a six."

"Lily, I think I'd remember this sort of thing – we all, universally, agreed I was an eight and a half."

"We should get him back," says Robin before this pointless arguing gets too out of hand (Ted really can't face the fact they all rated him a six). At their general agreement she grins, "and I think I know how."

xxx

The first evening she's free to come to the bar again she arrives after the others, she's spent an extra half hour on her appearance and she's looking hot as all hell (if she does say so herself). As she enters she feels the eyes of the entire bar on her – but there's only one that matters – and it's not Ted either. From her seat at the bar she glances over at their usual booth to take a look at the guy she's been hearing so much about.

Her first reaction is surprise, when she had heard the tales of this man she'd always assumed he was a sleazy, red meat eating, middle aged guy but one glance at him proves her wrong. He's young – probably older than her and Ted but not by much – good looking, very good looking in a sort of 'boy next door' way, and the suits that Ted kept complaining about actually _work_ for him. They're proper 'look I have way too much money to waste on these' suits which compliment his appearance and are cut so they accent his body in just the right places. But it's his eyes that she notices the most –they're bright blue and filled with mischief – if she had any doubts about running this trick on him they go away in an instant – this is going to be _fun._

She turns her attention away from him quickly – this is all part of the plan – but she can feel those blue eyes focusing in on her; she hasn't not worn a wedding ring to a bar since she was nineteen and she'd nearly forgotten the thrill of being the centre of attention.

And, sure enough, only seconds later he swaggers up to her, "Hey," he says in her ear, making her jump – even as a shiver of excitement makes its way down her spine.

She recovers quickly, leaning forward and smiling suggestively at him, "Hello."

"Fancy a drink?" he asks, signalling Carl who, on cue passes her a vodka cranberry (urgh really?). Carl, who they've already let in on what they are doing to avoid any awkward situations, throws her a wink but otherwise doesn't let on that this is a ruse.

She picks it up takes a sip of the overly sweet alcohol and then looks him up and down, "Thank you, it's so nice to meet a gentleman for once," she doesn't miss the way his eyes light up as she seemingly falls into his trap, "I'm Robin."

"Agent Stins..." he begins before rapidly correcting himself, "Barney, I mean Barney."

"Agent?" she asks innocently (while not so innocently biting her lip and thrusting her chest forward).

His eyes flicker towards her cleavage, before he's back to being charming and a little anxious, "I'm sorry, it's just you're so beautiful that I forgot... I'm not meant to reveal..." he leans in close, "Can you keep a secret?"

She nods eagerly – making no effort to regain the personal space that he's just intruded upon.

"I'm actually I secret agent," he says, "you know, like James Bond, but with better suits and without a lame British accent," he adds when she doesn't look adequately impressed.

Robin resists the urge to roll her eyes (a secret agent? Really? That's the oldest lie in the book) and instead bats her eyelids and gushes "You are a spy? I bet that is really dangerous."

"Oh it is, I face dreadful dangers every day – ones you couldn't even imagine..." and he launches into a (blatantly fake) description of his typical day as a spy – which seems to take a lot of inspiration from James Bond, the Karate Kid and (oddly) Star Wars, "...it's all worth it of course, to save America from the Death Star. It's just it's such a lonely life being a spy. I wish just I had someone special, someone who I could trust with my secret life, someone I could love with the same dedication, strength, experience, good looks, well defined muscles and sexual stamina that I use when I defend our wondrous country..."

It's ridiculous, he's ridiculous, she can't understand how any woman could ever believe these lies. However, as he slowly but surely encroaches on her personal space, his smile still dangerously charming, the tips of his fingers running gently up and down her inner thigh, she has to admit she can understand why women go home with him.

She gently fiddles with the lapels of his suit, "You can trust me," she whispers seductively leaning even closer towards him, "I know the best way to relieve stress of your secret job, and let me warn you, I am like an animal in bed..." she lets him lean in this time, until their lips are barely a hair width away...

She pushes away – he looks at her, disorientated, "But your suits look cheap and ugly and you're way too blond, I much prefer casual wear and dark hair." And at that she flounces off (maybe a tad melodramatically, but hey, she's having fun) taps Ted on the shoulder and pulls him into a kiss. Ted immediately pulls her closer towards him and deepens the kiss.

After a few moments she breaks away to look over at a gaping Barney – his face is so gobsmacked that all four members of the booth burst into hysterics.

"That was awesome," snorts Marshall.

Ted nods, "I can't believe he thought he had you."

Barney looks at them, confused, for a second and then at Carl, who's not even bothering to hide his laughter, then determinedly makes his way over to the booth, "Ted, who is... this?!" Robin can tell he's one step away from asking if she's a hooker.

Ted smirks, "Barney, this is my wife, Robin. Robin I believe you've just met Barney."

Barney splutters for a second, and Robin takes great satisfaction that she's managed to render him speechless, "That wasn't very nice Ted."

Ted puts up his hands helplessly, still recovering from his laughter, "Hey, it was Robin's idea."

Barney glares at her, eyes narrowed, she feels like she's being scrutinised, "I'm not sure I like you, Robin Mosby."

But Robin just laughs, shaking her head at him, and offers to buy the next round of drinks.

Barney stays with them the rest of the night. He spends it sulking somewhat, continuing to glare at her childishly and making anti Canadian comments whenever the opportunity arises. When the topic gets onto Ted and Robin's upcoming fifth anniversary Barney snorts.

"You're aware that's five years of your life you're never going to get back?"

"You were telling me a few hours ago how hot you thought Robin was." Says Ted, unperturbed.

Barney rolls his eyes theatrically, "Yes, but you've already seen her naked, it's time to move on bro. Anyway," he quips, "I was talking to Robin – she's way too hot for you."

Ted huffs and Robin bites her lips to stop herself from smiling – because offending Ted is funny – and, well, being called hot is never a bad thing.

"Anyway," Ted continues as if there had been no interruption, "we're going to that little bistro on 47th Street in Brooklyn – you know the one with the blue French horn on the wall?"

"You mean the one that looks like a Smurf's penis?" asks Barney innocently.

Marshall and Lily groan in disgust while Ted begins a lecture on how Smurfs are actually asexual but Robin's too busy laughing hysterically to notice, "That's one lucky Smurf," she manages to snort eventually before bursting into giggles again. Barney smirks at her in satisfaction.

One day she'll look back and wonder if this should have been her first warning.

xxx

Barney continues to hang out with them. She finds she enjoys him being there – his lewd comments amuse her and his frequent attempts to hit on her and tell her that marriage is a waste of time are pretty much meant as a joke. He takes a little longer to be accepted by the rest of the group but – though they take his remarks a little more seriously – they warm to him as well. After all, Barney is so much fun to hang out with and adding a bit of crazy to a group of friends is never a bad thing (she also suspects that the fact he's a massive Star Wars nerd is a rather large part of why Ted and Marshall's accepted him.)

A month or so into their friendship Barney comes rushing into the bar with even more manic enthusiasm than usual.

"Ted, Marshall, one of you is about to have the most exciting time of your life!"

Both Ted and Marshall looked horrified.

"Imagine it – the whole evening spent doing constant but fulfilling exercise, all the hot sweaty bodies, rolling on the floor, showing you the distance and accuracy of my shooting."

"Um Barney," starts Ted, in a voice which he's fallen into using a lot of the time when he talks to Barney, "I'd like to remind you that both Marshall and I are in relationships... straight relationships."

Barney sighs melodramatically, although the glint in his eyes suggests he was hoping to be misunderstood in this way, "I was talking about going laser tagging."

"Isn't that for ten year olds?" asks Ted.

Barney glares at him, "No, Theodore, laser tagging is a sport of gentlemen, only for the manliest and most grown up of men – Boy Scout Troop 15 is going to be sorry they even attempted to beat me last year."

"Did they beat you?" asks Lily.

"It was a tie!" Barney insists, "So which of you is going to be my lucky partner?"

"No." Say Marshall and Ted simultaneously.

Barney looks almost shocked, "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. What I am offering is going to be undoubtedly one of the most awesome nights of your life first we'll start off pushing..."

"I'll go," says Robin, Ted always gives her disapproving looks when she goes off to the shooting range so she's got out of the habit, but it's been way too long since she's shot stuff – even if this is just going to be ten year old boys with fake guns.

Barney brushes her off, "Robin I need someone competent on my team."

And in that second she goes from being mildly interested in playing to determined. The rush of a challenge egging her on like nothing else, "Please, I could beat you any day."

Barney regards her for a second, "Challenge accepted."

So that's how Robin finds herself fighting in a death match (well, almost) of laser tag against Barney Stinson – the Cub Scouts on their respective teams long forgotten as they stake each other through the arena. She beats him outright in the first game and is well on the way to beating him in the rematch he demanded ("I let you off easy the first time,") when he tackles her to stop her shooting him – her gun goes flying across the floor and his follows suit as she knocks it out of his hand. They end up tussling on the floor, guns forgotten, in a vain attempt to get the upper-hand – until there is a flash on both their vests. They look up to see a kid standing above them, smirking. In an instant they both lunge towards their fallen guns and chase after him until they have him cornered and crying (serves him right). The next game they work together to beat the Scout Troop – they're an awesome team and they totally beat the ten year olds to the ground (well, they so would have if they hadn't been kicked out after the loser parents complained about them terrorising their kids).

Afterwards they share a 'victory' drink at MacLarin's – the others have since gone home – and she's helping Barney scout out targets – because (tackling her aside) he's been such a good sport tonight (and, ok, it's fun).

"Blonde two o'clock?"

He considers for a second, quieter than usual, "No, the brunette at 4 o'clock," he says finally.

She looks at the girl Barney's chosen – she's his type, good body, vacant expression, hot – but she maintains that the blonde had bigger cans and a hotter body, "Are you sure?"

He nods and she doesn't argue any further (after all it's Barney, not her, who's going to see her naked).

One ridiculous but awesomely convincing story about all the babies and kittens Barney saved in a fire last week and the brunette's all over him.

Just before he leaves he comes up to her, "Thanks," he mutters.

"You're welcome," she says, eyeing the girl who is still staring at him like he hung the moon.

"No, not for her," he says, he glances at the girl again, "well, not just for her, thanks for an awesome evening. I had a great time."

She smiles, "Me too."

xxx

She hangs round with Barney more after that, both with the group and on her own. Not a massive, worrying amount, probably not even as much as she hangs round with Lily – and certainly not as much as she's with her husband – but she finds herself looking forward to their evenings together. Whenever she's with Barney she just has so much fun – as well as their regular laser tag nights he takes her to the cigar bar, clubs that she's sure they're too old for and one memorable night when they somehow ended up licking the Liberty Bell. In return she takes him to her favourite haunts; the Hoser Hut (although not before making him promise to not make any rude comments – he doesn't keep his promise – but he tries for the first five minutes) and the shooting range.

"Wow, I've forgotten how much fun this is," she says after shooting a round of bull's eyes and laughing at his own pitiful effort, "I haven't done this in ages."

"How come?" There's a funny expression on his face – not his normal mischievous one and it unsettles her.

She shrugs "I don't know, I never seem to get the time," she doesn't say the real reason _Ted doesn't approve_ but one look at Barney and she knows he's seen right through her. The next second he's assuring her (completely inaccurately) that he's going to beat her next round and the moment is easy to put out of her mind.

"I don't know how you put up with him for so long," says Ted to her one night.

Robin just shrugs – because she doesn't think, "He makes me feel young and wild again," is an answer that will make Ted particularly happy.

xxx

The five of them are hanging round their apartment one night when Lily casually says "Oh, Barney, by the way, I went to a party in that new building on 82nd, and the host said she knew you."

The others groan and roll their eyes, Barney smirks a little but doesn't look up from whoever he's texting (probably a booty call, but maybe something to do with his mysterious job), "What was her name?"

"Something beginning with S, Sharon? Shannon?"

Barney's head snaps up, "Shannon?"!" he says, too fast. He sees the others look at him in shock and he puts on a grin that isn't even slightly convincing, "Shannon, Shannon, no, don't remember any Shannon."

"Really? Well, she gave me this videotape to give to you," says Lily getting it out of her bag with a smug grin, that Robin finds she doesn't quite like, on her face.

Barney is up in a flash, "Give it to me Lily."

But Lily's too fast for him, she slots the video in the machine and presses play. Barney looks, for a second, between Lily and the TV, as if assessing whether he'll be able to stop them from watching, and then sits down in resignation.

Robin sees the panic in his eyes as the video stars to whirr. Any curiosity she might have had over what it contains is replaced by the thought of what would happen if her own embarrassing videos were discovered.

The tape is worse than she expected – sure he's not quite rapping about visiting malls – but he's singing, long haired, young, almost unrecognisable – begging this Shannon to come back to him.

They stare, open mouthed, at the footage for a few seconds, before Barney gets up, ejects the video, grabs it and storms out, leaving the rest of them sitting in shocked silence.

As they slowly recover the others seem caught between surprise and amusement that Barney used to be human, but she can't see the humour in the situation at all. It all hits too close to home – she understands changing yourself to get over pain – sometimes it's the only way to cope.

A few hours later, just as the others start worrying about him, Barney comes back into the room. The pain on his face now completely erased – his mask reset. He systematically goes around getting dirt on everyone else in exchange for his story (she figures out what he's doing quickly and manages to avoid contributing – just because the others have got something out of him doesn't mean they're finding out her secrets). The story ends with him having nailed Shannon tonight (with video evidence to prove it), him declaring himself awesome and going down to the bar. She gives him 20 minutes and then follows him down.

She finds him sitting on his own, surrounded by several glasses, staring at a couple at a booth

"Hey," She says as she reaches him. He jumps, clearly not expecting to be caught doing anything other than picking up women, "are you ok?"

He looks at her, "Of course I am, I'm awesome."

She gets a beer and sits down next to him. For a while they drink in silence.

"It's not that I miss her," he says finally, "I love my life, it's just... not nice to be reminded of the 'what ifs'." He pauses again, "I thought I was going to marry her."

She's never seen him like this, occasionally she thinks she's seen hints of the man behind the caricature but he's never seemed as human as he does now, "We all have dreams we'd never fulfilled," she says gently, "I wanted to travel the world..."

He looks up sharply, "Well then why don't you?"

She looks away under his scrutiny, he's making it sound so easy, but it's never just like that, "I'm married, I have a steady job, Ted wants to settle down."

"Robin, you have your whole life ahead of you. You can't let Ted stop you doing something you want."

"We're married, we have to do things we both want."

"You shouldn't let marriage get in the way of this," his tone is less jovial than usual, she thinks this is the most serious view on the topic of marriage she's ever heard him voice.

She doesn't know how to reply.

"I was 20 when I started dating Shannon," he says eventually, "that's too young to make any sensible life decisions."

She doesn't mention that she was 19 when she married Ted but she knows he already knows and it hangs between them.

He stares at her for a second or two longer before he twists his face back into a grin, "So, Robin, tell me, which of those two women over there look the most stupid, I could use your keen eye..." and she knows the conversation is over.

xxx

Sometime near Christmas Lily brings one of her teacher friends, Ellen, over to meet the gang ("She's new in town and wants some company – come on, she can't be as annoying as Barney,") on the condition Barney doesn't hit on her (he keeps this promise for exactly 83 and a half seconds).

The topic gets onto 'how we met' stories.

Lily and Marshall go first, of course, theirs is a carefully synchronised retelling, using words like 'destiny' and 'fate' and ends with everyone (except Barney) going "Awwww."

When it's Ted and Robin's turn Ted takes over the conversation:

"It was the third anniversary of Marshall and Lily's first date, and I was down at the bar wondering if I'd ever find someone for myself when I looked across the room. Right there was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Our eyes met across the room and she smiled at me and, right in that second, I just knew she was my 'the one'." (Barney starts miming hanging himself).

"Anyway, I asked her out a week from that night, but she was busy, so I took a chance and asked her out the same night. I took her out to this little bistro and with every word she spoke I could sense a deeper connection; she loved dogs (just like me), she could quote obscure lines from Ghost Busters and, most importantly, she hated olives," he then proceeds to explain 'The Olive Theory' to this poor woman (Barney rolls his eyes and scoffs the entire time).

"We went back to her apartment, and right there, while she was standing, looking beautiful, in the moonlight, I told her I loved her." Ted pointedly ignores Barney's (very loud) splutter of "WHAT?!" and continues, "We spent the night together, and the next, and the one after that. And, after three wonderful months, I just thought 'Why wait?' I got her landlord to let me into her apartment when she was out, sprinkled the whole room with rose petals, invited a string quartet over and proposed she said yes and – well the rest is sitting right in front of you."

The story might have ended in everyone going "Awwww," but Robin can't hear over the sound of the retching noises Barney's making. "Ted, Ted, look at me, no one knows they love someone because their eyes met across a room."

"I did, that's the story of how I met my wife." insists Ted.

"And no one tells someone they love them on their first date – that's just creepy – no one likes that."

"Robin did," he turns to her, "didn't you?"

Robin just smiles and nods, because – whatever, it doesn't matter if Ted doesn't know the whole story – she loves him now and she doesn't want to ruin his fancy image of fate and destiny bringing them together.

In reality she'd been in the bar that night because she'd had a massive argument with her father, he'd somehow found out she'd taken a career in journalism – not the economics degree he'd wanted (read: told) her to take. He'd phoned her up, told her, once again, that she was a disappointment – that he wished she'd never been born so she wouldn't keep troubling him. She'd told him she hated him, hung up the phone, grabbed her fake ID, and stormed out to the first bar she saw, prepared to relieve stress by banging the brains out of the first man who was interested.

But instead she'd met Ted, who'd said she was beautiful, took her out to a fancy restaurant and then told her he loved her. Of course she hadn't loved him back then, Barney's right, you can't fall in love with someone by just seeing them across a crowded room, but having someone care about her – to not know her awful past – to see her without her flaws was just so wonderful. She'd been swept up in the wonder of being loved, she'd never wanted it to end. When Ted had proposed saying yes hadn't been so much of a decision but a necessity, she couldn't lose him after all that.

And she'd grown to love him anyway, easily, by less than six months into their marriage, he was just so kind and stable and reliable and normal – he was exactly what had been missing from her lonely childhood and her chaotic teenaged years.

She doesn't regret marrying Ted one bit. Ok, so when she'd run into Jessica Glitter and her boyfriend and he'd joked "So you're the friend from Canada who got married way too young!" the smile she gave him in reply had not quite met her eyes, but that was because he had made it so obvious they talked about her behind her back. It was like Ted said (if overly sappily) 'being young isn't a bad thing, it just means you get to spend more of your life together' and a life with Ted was – is, so nice, so normal. There might have been some concessions – but isn't that what growing up is about? It's about realising you can't have everything and making the best of what you have.

"You know, Ted," says Barney casually, too casually, "there's a flaw to your story."

Ted looks at him, Robin looks too – a second too quickly, "Really Barney," Ted says, "and what is that?"

"Marshall likes olives." (An unexplained feeling of relief fills her.)

"What?!" shout Ted and Lily simultaneously – earning themselves annoyed glances from a few of the bar's newer patrons (the older ones have long since got used to the odd outburst like this).

"I saw him eating them last week," Barney smirks.

Marshall splutters his explanation (basically "I wanted to get laid.") and Lily forgives him instantly (of course), but Barney's still wearing a triumphant grin.

"See Ted, no relationship story is as nauseatingly perfect as you make it out to be."

For just a second she's sure she sees Barney's eyes flicker over to look at her but the next second they're gone and she thinks she must have imagined it.

Nothing more is said on the topic as the conversation veers off in other directions (and is eventually stopped altogether when Lily's friend storms off because she was over sensitive and Barney made one sexual remark too many). But Robin's been left with a niggling discontent, as if the whole evening has somehow awoken thoughts that she's kept away for years.

xxx

A week later Marshall proposes to Lily – of course she says yes without a moment's hesitation. They hold an impromptu engagement party in their booth that night. It is awesome (they're all there drinking to excess – how could it not be?), but – somewhere in the middle of it – she starts fixating on Barney – on how happy he looks at the news. He says he thinks it's a terrible idea of course, but it's clearly all a joke – it's so much more jovial than the comments he makes about her and Ted's marriage nowadays. She wonders if it's always been like this, or have his remarks about her and Ted become more serious? Why? Does he think something's wrong? But there's not, they're happy. He's wrong– isn't he?

These thoughts disturb her so she pushes them out of her mind – she's good at doing that.

xxx

A few days later she is the last to arrive at the booth – as she slips in Marshall and Lily are already in the midst of a disagreement.

"I just want to keep my name – it's my identity."

"Robin changed her name," Marshall argues belligerently.

"Yes, and that was her choice – and possibly only to make her name shorter, but Aldrin is easy to spell and pronounce and I want to keep it."

"Ooooh what was your name?" Barney cuts in as he leans across the table towards Robin "was it really lame and Canadian? Like Hoserwoman or Icemason?"

Robin rolls her eyes but doesn't put much effort into keeping the smile off her face, "No, it was Scherbatsky – sounded more Russian than anything."

"If it wasn't Canadian why did you bother changing it?"

Robin shrugs but, thankfully, before Barney can force her into an uncomfortable answer, Ted butts in.

"It's a mark of love and respect. Traditionally it is a symbol of a girl changing into a woman – a girl giving up her father's name and taking her husband's but in the modern age it is a symbol of commitment and..."

Barney's eyes glaze over even before hers do – and she thinks the subject has been dropped.

Of course she should have known better by now.

The next time she gets up to buy drinks she feels a hand on her shoulder – she turns sharply to find him behind her – just slightly invading her personal space, "God Barney how did you do that?"

He smirks in satisfaction, "Magic." But he is apparently not to be distracted from his quest, "So what's the real reason you took Ted's name?"

She shrugs, trying hard to keep calm, because Barney can smell vulnerability in a woman, "What Ted says, love, commitment, faithfulness, spelling – and the other stuff he was droning on about."

Barney looks at her, "Robin, please. I know you found Ted's explanation just as pretentious and lame as me."

She considers lying further – but really this is Barney, he'd know. Anyway, she doesn't mind telling him – she knows he won't judge her or run and tell Ted. "Fine," she looks down for just a second before smirking, "daddy issues."

For a second there's something else on his face before it turns into a triumphant smile and he punches his fist into the air as if he's five, "I knew it! That's so hot!"

And she can't help laughing. He doesn't question her further – and she's glad – she doesn't want to think back to the pit of hate that she felt for her father when she'd married Ted.

xxx

She comes storming into the bar, one evening, quickly ordering a drink

"Urgh Ted is so boring!"

"YES! Robin! That's what I've been trying to tell you for months!"

She glares at him, waiting for him to ask what the problem is.

He does, eventually, "What's he done this time?"

"So he comes home from work today and - you know the way he rambles aimlessly for hours about stupid stuff?"

"Constantly, for about nine years on end, forcing you to pee in a bucket and eat spiders to survive while you wait, so by the time he's finished you're probably in a coma of boredom and possibly dead. Yes, I've had the pleasure."

"Yeah, something like that. So he was talking literally for hours on end every day about this stupid building he has to design and how much he hated his job. So today I didn't bother asking him about it because he'd just say the same old rubbish."

"Sounds fair enough," and, because he's Barney not Lily, there's no sarcasm in his tone.

"But then he gets really pissed about it. Saying that's what I'm supposed to do when you're in a couple. As if I don't know how to act in a couple, I've been married for years!"

"You make that sound like that's a good thing."

"It's just he makes me feel like I'm useless at it all. Like I'm failing at being a good wife to Ted," _like I failed at being a good son to my father,_ "like I can't do anything right."

Barney puts up his hand, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, firstly you're almost my equal at laser tag – just saying but clearly you're doing something right there."

"Pretty sure I beat you."

"Pretty sure I let you. Bro code article number 164: always let a girl bro win at laser tag if she's polite enough to wear a top cut low enough that it makes her boobs jiggle while running and holding a laser gun and... not the point... the point is that you're awesome – so awesome – and being normal and not wanting to listen to some guy drone on about his completely unawesome life makes no difference at all."

"But shouldn't I care more about it if Ted wants me to listen?"

"Why do you think you're in the wrong? Maybe he should be more sensitive to your needs, realise you don't want to talk about that." It's such a profound statement coming from Barney that it renders her silent for a minute.

Eventually she shrugs it off, "I guess it's both our faults really, I know he doesn't mean to make me feel like that. I should probably talk to him, tell him that I care about his stupid work as long as he doesn't drone on about it for too long."

There's a pause where she feels like Barney wants to say something serious, but then his face creeps into a grin, "Lying, I like it! Hey, you should do what I do, when you guys are being boring! Just sit there and smile and think about something awesome – like boobs. Then, when he wants you to reply, just say names of 80s sitcoms – 'Good Times', 'What's Happening Now', 'Different Strokes' – I find 'Doogie Howser M.D.' doesn't work quite as well though..."

"I'm not going to sit there while Ted's talking thinking about boobs Barney," but she's smiling.

"Suits then," he offers.

"No."

"Me!"

She bursts into laughter, hitting him lightly.

He smirks at her, "I knew we'd find something that works for you."

"In your dreams, Barney," she answers still giggling, even as she gets up, in a much better mood – to apologise to Ted.

"You're in my dreams constantly, baby."

She rolls her eyes but leaves with a grateful, "Thanks Barney."

He nods in acknowledgement and takes another sip of his drink.

xxx

They're all sitting at the bar together on night when Barney gets a phone call. He makes a great show of answering it, but they've all long since learnt to ignore him when he gets like this (after all it's almost every night). It's only when he starts to go quiet and gives monosyllabic answers to the caller that they start to pay attention.

When he finally hangs up they all look at him expectantly, "I might be becoming a dad," he says, "she's just going for a test," and orders three drinks and downs them fast.

A couple of hours later he gets another call, it's a scare. The others groan and wonder how Barney has, once again, managed to escape karma, while Barney expresses his jubilation and ideas for his brand new holiday 'Not a Father's Day'. She's pretty sure she's the only one who notices he orders one more drink than usual. That, for all his talk of the joys of singledom, he hasn't even tried to pick anyone up tonight. Sometime during the night he catches her staring at him, she can tell he's aware he's been caught – he doesn't bother to try to dissuade her from the notion.

She stays behind with him once the others leave. He doesn't say anything to her for a long time – just sips his drink and stares at her, looking a little lost – but she can tell from the look on his face that he's glad she's here.

"What would you have done if it had been positive?" she asks eventually.

He looks at her for a long time – not in annoyance but almost as if he's scrutinising her. Then he looks down and shrugs, "I have no idea," he pauses for a second, "I wouldn't abandon it though. I couldn't do that to it. I never had a father. I don't even know who he is. I used to want one so badly – someone to cheer for me when I did well at school, or to play catch with or give me advice when I needed it. When everyone else made father's day cards at school it hurt not having one," he laughs humourlessly, "I used to pretend Bob Barker was my dad, you know the host of 'The Price is Right' – or are Canadian TVs too primitive to pick up good TV?"

She rolls her eyes, but good naturedly – relieved that, even now, he hasn't quite lost his sense of humour, "It even runs in Canada."

"Good, because it's a masterpiece. Anyway, I decided he was my dad because when I asked my mom who he was she just pointed to the TV and said 'I don't know – that guy,' and it was so great to be able to think my dad was a celebrity rather that some loser that even my mom probably can't even remember the name of."

Robin snorts, "Trust me, you're not missing out on much, my father wanted a son, not me, he spent most of my childhood either ignoring me or telling me I was a disappointment." The words slip out so easily that she barely notices – it took her years to confess these things to Ted. Ted still doesn't really understand it – that sometimes the only way to escape with even some of yourself remaining is to put everything behind you and run away. Ted still goes on about reconciling and 'family is family' and other nonsense but Barney just looks at her softly and puts his hand on top of hers.

He lets out a low chuckle, "We're so messed up aren't we?"

Her laugh back is a hint genuine, "The most." She leans against him.

They stay that way for a good few minutes until he gets up to get them another round of drinks.

When he comes back it takes her another few minutes until she speaks again, "Do you ever think about having children?"

He hesitates, looking down and fiddling with his tie as a distraction, "I used to once," he says eventually – and she thinks he's probably telling the truth, "but not for a long time. How about you?"

Even though she should have expected the question she's still somewhat taken aback. She thinks about her own childhood, about her belittling Dad and her uncaring Mom, about their unstable marriage and the messy divorce, about how awful it was to be caught in the centre of it, about how she and Katie were used as weapons by their warring parents. She remembers knowing, aged twelve, that she could never do that to a child of her own.

She shrugs, "Sometimes," she says, "just having that kind of bond. Occasionally I think it would be nice."

"Do you see it with Ted?" he asks.

She's silent for a good few moments – not able to meet his eyes – because she doesn't want to tell him about the hints Ted keeps making, about the fear they cause – about the niggling sensation that it's not just about the loss of freedom or having another human being relying on her, "Ted's my husband." She says finally. She knows Barney's not stupid – he knows she hasn't given him a straight answer – but he doesn't comment on it and she gladly lets the subject drop.

Barney has another two drinks before he speaks again, "I'd make a terrible father. I'd muck my child up so much."

Robin thinks about her own father, about the way he only paid attention to her when he felt like it, how he made always her feel like a disappointment when she did something he didn't approve of – or just for being born the wrong gender. She looks at Barney – worrying about a child that doesn't even exist – determined not to be like his dad. Barney, who jokes and teases but has never once made her feel inadequate about anything (which is more than can be said for Ted). She can't even imagine her father sitting here quiet, worried about mucking up his child.

"No," she says, "I don't think you would."

xxx

"Robin, you are about to have the time of your life."

Robin looks up as he slides into the bar, glad for the company, but rolls her eyes at his melodramatic (as always) entrance to the booth, "When have I heard that before?"

He glares at her playfully, "And when have I been wrong?"

She considers, "There have been times..."

He smirks at her "You can't think of one."

"Well there was that time when you nearly got us arrested at the airport..."

"Which was awesome."

"...And that time you didn't manage to get us into Okay."

"Shut up – we went to Shut Up instead remember? And it was awesome."

" ...And when you took me to Tuckahoe Funland and we just ended up queuing for ages."

"I bought you cotton candy!"

"...And when..."

Barney scowls, "Robin just..."

She bites her lip to hide her smile, he catches her doing this and grins back, "Ok, which legendary place are we going to tonight?"

"Only the Gala event for the Grand Opening of Sharper Image's 500th store."

"That's what counts as legendary?"

"It has an open bar."

"You're right, that sounds awesome!"

He beams and jumps up and down in a way that makes him look about five.

"So where is this?" she asks as she exits the booth.

"The Willowbrook Mall."

She tenses up, stops in her tracks, "I just remembered, I can't make it," but the words come out too quickly.

He turns around, and she can already see the curiosity in his eyes, damn it, "I just have... that thing..."

His mouth twists into a smirk, "What thing Robin?"

"Just a thing, that I forgot about... until now," she's not even convincing herself, she can't believe she's letting him unsettle her like this.

He tilts his head to the side, "Really?"

She sighs, she's clearly fighting a losing battle, "Ok, fine, I just don't want to go."

He looks at her with interest, "Why?"

"I don't go to malls."

"What? Why not?"

"I don't, just drop it ok?" a foolish request if ever there was one, his eyes light up in anticipation of a scandalous secret – and the problem is there is one.

"Come on Robin, I won't tell anyone."

She snorts, because no one, never mind Barney, could keep a secret like this and she's not letting anyone know about Robin Sparkles; ever. She hasn't even told Ted.

"It's porn isn't it?"

"What?" she asks, bemused by the non-sequitur.

"You're not subtle Robin – I can tell by the way you're blushing – you can't even meet my eyes, you did porn."

"No I didn't."

"There's no need to be ashamed Robin," he coaxes, "any porn with you in it would be really hot."

"I didn't do porn."

"Sure you didn't," he winks.

"No, I actually didn't," at this point she almost wishes she did – because if anyone was to find out about Robin Sparkles it would be Barney – whenever Ted's asked her about her fear of malls she's been able to change the topic (normally with sex), with Barney this is simply not an option (or not one she wants to try at least).

"I know, that's what I said Robin," he winks again.

She frowns at him, "Ok so say, hypothetically, I did do porn," his face bursts into a triumphant grin, but she holds up her hand before he can say anything, "what has that got to do with malls?"

"You could have done porn set in a mall."

"Porn set in a mall?" she asks sceptically, "that turns you on?"

"It would work!" he defends adamantly, "You could be this hot Victoria's Secret assistant and the guy – let's call him Jack Package – comes in trying to find something to make his needy, ugly girlfriend hotter. But he can't picture what the lingerie would look like on her so you offer to model for him. And you come out in this hot red number – which barely covers anything – and show it off as the camera zooms in on the important bits. Then you return to the changing room but suddenly you scream – the bra clasp is stuck and you can't get it off, no matter how hard you pull! You have to ask for my help. I pull the curtain aside and rush to your aid, flicking it open with one nimble move of my hands – the bra falls right off you – revealing your boobs which are perfectly round and perky and..."

"Yeeeah, that didn't happen," Robin interrupts – waving her hand in front of his face – because he's staring off in the distance with a vacant expression.

"It happened Robin, no matter how much you try to deny it," Barney insists, "and I'm going to watch every piece of Canadian porn I can lay my hands on until I find it." And he runs out of the room frantically, presumably to get started.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at the space he was sitting in moments ago, amused by his determination but dreading, just a little, that something else might come up in his searches.

xxx

"200!" Barney announces as he bursts into their apartment one Friday evening, brandishing a piece of paper.

"Damn I thought I'd locked the door," says Robin, barely looking up from her magazine.

"You did, I just have these," he jangles a copy of her keys in front of them.

"We didn't give you keys!"

"Heh, yeah, but I know a guy."

She glares at him, "Bit of a security breach isn't it?"

He looks at her, "Please Robin, at GNB I've assisted in breaching the security of three rival banks and the FBI, I could get past your flimsy lock with a hairpin. Anyway, that is not the point, I have an announcement to make, where's Ted?"

"Coming home from work and Marshall and Lily are meeting us as the bar later."

"But this is important news!"

"Tell me then."

"No! I need to tell everyone."

"Ok," she says and turns back to her magazine.

"Fine, I'll tell you," he says, after about a second.

Robin puts the magazine down and looks up expectantly.

"I, Barney Stinson, master of all things awesome, blessed with stunning good looks and enormous penis has now, wait for it... slept with, wait for it... 200 women!"

"Eww." Says Robin, monotonously.

But Barney is undeterred, "And I can prove it to you too! Look here's my list!" and he thrusts a piece of paper in front of her face.

Curiosity getting the better of her she takes it from him, looking through it for familiar names.

Barney provides a running commentary as she looks through, "...that one was completely crazy, that one slept as me twice – once as Barney once as Larney, that one had a hell of a rack – I'll show you the picture of those – I mean – her in my scrapbook sometime, that one thought I was a billionaire, that one fell for the SNASA..."

"Barney, has it ever occurred to you that these women aren't actually as stupid as you make them out to be?"

"Robin, as convincing and genius as my plays are, I think it's probably a given that the women who fall..."

"Who says they fall?" she snaps, surprising even herself with her sharpness, "has it ever occurred to you that you're not as good a liar as you think you are?"

"Robin, if that was the case I'd be in jail – for perjury, multiple times."

"Has it not occurred to you that these women, like you, might just want an easy fuck?"

He looks at her and there's a glint of something dangerous in his eyes, something that terrifies and excites her all at once, but then it's gone, "What do you mean Robin?"

"I just mean that you're good looking, confident and charming, maybe they just want a one night stand too."

"Ha! I knew it!"

"Knew what."

"You're hot for me!"

"No, no I'm not," she has to make a conscious effort to meet his eyes.

"You so want this Robin, you want me bad."

"Not after you've just given me a list of all the hundreds of women you've slept with."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night Robin, just remember, I'm always up for it," and there's that same cockiness, that same smug grin that he always has on when he hits on her (which is about three times a week, often right in front of Ted) it's a joke, like it is every time, but there's something else there too this time, something that makes her pulse race and her body tighten.

She's immensely relieved when Ted comes through the door.

"Hi Robin, what are you doing here Barney?"

"Ted, Ted, I have some incredibly important news!"

"I have some too, actually."

"Mine's more important," Barney argues.

"No it isn't," says Robin.

"It totally is!"

Robin turns to Ted, "I've heard his news, it's lame, your news has to be more interesting unless it's that you found another old penny on the subway."

"That _was_ interesting, but this is more important."

"It's not as important as mine!"

Ted sighs, "Go ahead Barney."

"Your wife has the hots for me!"

"What? No, I don't! That's not your news." She protests, a little too shrilly.

"Oh yeah, I slept with 200 women too, but this is the more pressing factor. She said how much she likes my body."

"I said your plays weren't convincing."

"Come on Barney," says Ted, rolling his eyes, "I think I know Robin well enough to know she has better taste than to like you."

"You're right bro," says Barney, "she's completely not thinking about our naked bodies entangled on your bed right now, handcuffs around my wrist, whip in her hand..." he winks.

The only reason the picture comes into her mind is because he suggested it, she quickly pushes it away, "Your news Ted?"

"I've been offered a promotion."

"Congratulations!" she says at the same time as Barney says, "Told you it was boring."

"But, the job is in San Francisco, we'd have to move in about six weeks."

"For how long?"

"A year, for now, but it could be extended or I could be moved somewhere else, maybe out of the States. I mean I don't have to accept it right now, I get to visit in a few weeks before I make my decision and, of course, I would only take it if you're happy with it."

She thinks about how she left Canada to travel and only made it to New York. She imagines living in another city, maybe even another country, about the experiences she'd wanted to feel and the people that she'd wanted to meet, that maybe now she could...

"Yeah, let's do it!"

"Are you sure, I mean your job..."

"I'm a journalist, there's news everywhere, I'll find a new one."

Ted smiles at her, takes her hand, "Ok, we'll do it!"

After that they make their way down to the bar to meet up with Marshall and Lily.

The evening's one of celebration, she hasn't felt so excited in a long time, they promise to keep in contact with their friends and visit frequently and, of course, not miss a moment of the upcoming wedding.

When she goes up to get another round Barney follows her.

"You make sure to send me a postcard," the cockiness is gone from his voice now, his smile is genuine.

She smiles back, "Sure, Barney."

"And not some lame one. One with..."

"...Some hot chicks on, preferably topless ones, I know."

"That's my girl," he grins, "you really ok with all of this?" he asks after a pause.

"Yeah," she says, "I really am, I've wanted to get out of New York and visit some new places for a while now."

He beams, "Good, I'm glad," then, more quietly, "I'll miss you."

"We've still got over a month to go," she says, "but yeah, I'll miss you too."

"Feel free to sext me whenever you're lonely."

xxx

She doesn't know how long she's been sitting at the bar. Doesn't know how long it's been since Ted called from San Francisco, since she hung up on him and all but ran to the bar. Hell, she doesn't know how many drinks she's had – just that she needs more, so many more. Right now she's way too sane, too caught up in her thoughts. She doesn't feel like strong, confident, sexy Robin anymore, she feels like a mess, like the little girl who always wished she could get away from her unhappy life.

As a child she had always wanted to be whisked away by a prince to a faraway country until her father had pushed it out of her. Sometimes she thinks she married Ted because of this – the ultimate act of teenage rebellion. But the USA, she found, was not quite the fairytale kingdom she'd imagined nor had she realised her prince would come at a price. She'd always wanted to be loved unconditionally but she'd never wanted to lose her freedom.

"Robin, what are you doing here? Are you ok?"

She looks up, she's been so distracted that she hadn't noticed that Barney has entered the booth and is sitting across from her.

"What's the matter?"

She looks down, doesn't meet his eyes, bites her lip to distract herself.

"Robin, tell me, please."

"Ted's rejected the job offer," She whispers, then looks away, blinking any stupid tears out of her eyes, because she hadn't quite realised how much she'd been looking forward to going before it had been taken away, and she doesn't want anyone, especially not Barney, to see her being stupid and feeling vulnerable.

He doesn't say anything for a while, he looks visibly stunned himself, "What happened?"

She sighs, trying to regain composure, "He Tedded out, of course, he decided it was too far away, started thinking about all the bad things, decided he wanted to not travel and stay settled – because New York's just a wonderful place to live and clearly by the time you've hit your mid twenties you're supposed to be setting down and popping out babies and having lawn parties and all that other crap." She's shaking now, and can't quite stop the tears from leaking out her eyes.

He comes round to her side of the booth, puts his arm round her shoulders, she leans into him.

"Did you tell him you wanted to go?" he asks.

She nods, "Yeah, but he said his decision was for the best, so I shouted at him for a bit, hung up and decided to go to the bar and get drunk."

He chuckles lightly as he pulls her closer, "Good thing I found you then, I hear there are people in this bar who take advantage of drunk, hot women."

Maybe she should think this comment's in bad taste but it's good natured and Barney's arms around her are so warm and secure, she can't help but smile a little.

Spurred on by this Barney rubs her arm softly, "Come on Robin, you're awesome, the second most awesome person in the universe. You'll do it, you'll get your chance, you'll get some huge travel journalism job and go everywhere."

She scoffs, "If Ted lets me."

"Fuck Ted," he says, and for the moment, they are the most beautiful words in the world, "You'll do this because you're Robin and you're amazing. I don't care what Ted thinks, _I_ believe in you."

She looks at him then, through her tears and she feels it, this incredible feeling that she's never felt with Ted. It makes her want to open up and tell him about her father and princes and dreams and _everything._

But the words won't come out of her mouth, so she settles for one secret at a time.

"Barney, do you want to come upstairs?"

"To your place?" he asks, appearing genuinely concerned he's overstepping the mark.

"I'll tell you why I hate malls."

She tries hard not to smile as she sees his eyes light up and he follows her eagerly out of the bar.

When she gets to the apartment she sorts through a box buried deep in the back of her room, finally drawing out the dusty VCR.

He eyes it nervously as she places it in the player, and she remembers vividly the night they found out about Shannon, the night she first realised he was really human. She wonders if he'll feel like he's discovered another side of her too when he sees this.

"Please don't tell anyone about this. No one else has seen it."

"Not even Ted?" he asks, and, if she was a little less preoccupied on the secret she is about to reveal, she would notice the faint trace of greed in his tone.

"No," she says, "just you," then summons up her courage and presses play.

His jaw drops in a way that's almost cartoonish as he looks from the onscreen overly fluorescent teenaged Robin to the one sitting with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment on the couch now, the awful (and horribly catchy) music blaring in their ears.

"I was a teenage pop star in Canada – don't laugh."

He does anyway, but it doesn't matter because he's staring at her with a look of amazement and awe.

"Wow, Robin, this is just so, so, lame and weird and vaguely awesome but mostly weird."

She grins, feeling so much better, so much better, than before, "Yeah, I know."

"This... this is better than porn!"

"Thank you... I think."

They watch it again and again that night. On the second watch any nervousness about showing him it has worn off and it's just hilarious. On the fifth watch they make a drinking game out of it, which is so much fun they continue it into the sixth and seventh viewing, giggling and beaming at each other.

It's so much fun that she almost _(almost)_ wants to show him 'Sandcastles in the Sand' and 'P.S. I Love You' and – well ok, she's not even nearly ready to show him 'Space Teens' – but she's having a great time. It occurs to her, sometime during the night, how close they're now sitting (she's sure they weren't that close to start with), that she's spending more time looking at him than watching the video and that, if she was any other woman married or not, that she'd be naked in bed by now (either that or he'd have already got what he wanted and escaped out the window). He'd be able to suss out her weaknesses and seduce her without a second thought – she's sure of it – because he's Barney.

Somehow, this thought doesn't alarm her. Maybe it's the alcohol but she's struck with just how much she's enjoying herself, that there's nowhere else she'd rather be, no one else she'd rather be with right now than right here, with Barney. She looks at him, studies him under the dim light of the TV, notices, perhaps for the first time (perhaps not), just how attractive he is. She looks at his strong, dextrous hands, imagines what they'd be like on her body or tangled in her hair, his experienced lips caressing her skin, his hard chest beneath her fingers... she wants him, she wants him so badly. She's still conscience of Ted, she's not drunk enough to have forgotten about him, but he hardly matters at the moment – because she knows if Barney kisses her right now nothing will stop her.

At that moment he turns from the TV to face her, still grinning, and their mouths are barely an inch apart, if one of them lent forward, just a little, they'd be touching. She can tell he's thinking it too, by the way the smile has frozen on his face, as they stare at each other.

 _Kiss me,_ she thinks, _why won't you kiss me?_ But she knows he won't – she's sure of it – because he's Barney.

The next day she wakes with a killer hangover – Barney is sleeping on the couch. She wakes him up and kicks him out of the apartment, barely saying goodbye. Then she calmly goes to the airport and waits for Ted's plane to come in. When she sees him she greats him with a smile and an apology for being annoyed earlier. He kisses her back and says not to worry about it. She leans into the comfort of him embrace and tells herself she never even had those thoughts about Barney, over and over again, until she believes it.

Because she is not like her parents, she refuses to be.

xxx

The weeks pass, she and Ted don't mention their disagreement, Marshall and Lily confess that they're glad they're not losing their best friends (even just to another city for a year or so) and she puts any disappointment she might have had down to a bit of a silly turn. She's got years of her life ahead, why do anything now? She's happy enough here, she's happy Ted's happy and she's fine with that.

Barney is awesome, awesome suit, awesome looks, an awesome friend and a huge man whore to any girl unfortunate enough to run into him at the bar. Neither of them mention any of the events of that night and she's happy – relieved to be able to put it all out of her mind.

xxx

She comes storming into the bar one night, "Urgh, I hate my new co-host." She says as she reaches the booth, Ted, Marshall and Lily are already there – Barney is over at the bar ordering drinks.

Lily looks up, "What's the matter with her, sweetie?"

"Does she not wear pants like the last one?" asks Marshall.

Robin rolls her eyes, urgh Don; depressed, needy and kept making pathetic attempts at hitting on her, she was very glad when her network fobbed him off on some other channel, "Ok, maybe not that bad, but still annoying. She's just so... she acts like a little girl, all chirpy and emotional and useless and everyone's just like 'Oh Becky...'"

"Becky? She sounds hot." Says Barney, somehow now at the booth.

Robin glares at him, "Thank you for your input, Barney. Anyway, as I was saying, everyone just makes a fuss of her and treats her patheticness as if it's something to dote upon rather than something a fully grown woman just shouldn't be doing."

There's a pause as the others make noises of sympathy.

"Boobs?" says Barney.

Robin scowls at him but bites back a laugh. The others scold him and assure her that she's better than Becky and will get her reward for it (statements that would be a whole lot more convincing if she didn't know even they don't watch her show) and the conversation soon moves onto other matters.

"She sucks by the way." Barney says to her at the bar later, when she's gone up to buy another round.

"Who?"

"Becky, I saw your show the other day, she was terrible – and that's saying something because your whole show is pretty lame. You deserve so much more than that."

Her heart does a little flutter at that comment, but even so, she narrows her eyes, "How come you saw my show? Not even Ted bothers to watch it."

He shrugs, though doesn't quite meet her eyes, "Was flicking through channels, it happened to be on, figured I'd watch it for a bit – you know, for the comedy, and to see if you were wearing a low cut top."

"I dress for work, I don't wear low cut tops."

"Heh, yeah, but the shirt you were wearing was tight." His gaze moves down from her face, this top she's wearing is tight too...

Robin snorts, but grabs the drinks and makes her way back to the booth. She doesn't really want to tempt Barney (or herself) any more than that.

"You were good though," Barney says later, once Marshall and Lily have left and Ted's off in the bathroom.

"Thank you," she says, surprised by the earnestness in his voice, somehow it means more than the other's assurances earlier in the night.

"You should try and apply for better things, you're confident, smart, hot, people would be mad not to take you."

"Well there is um this promotion..." she confesses quietly, she hasn't even told Ted about this.

"What is it?"

"It's not much really, it's this national correspondent position on the same job, it would mean interviewing more people from other states, really it would just add an extra work load and maybe a few dollars to my salary..."

"But it's a step up." Says Barney, "it might offer you opportunities."

"Yeah, it might," she says, "the last person who did it ended up getting a job in a better network out of state."

"So you're applying then?"

She looks down, "Probably not."

"Why?"

She shrugs, "Becky's applying too, and she'll obviously get it – everyone loves her and Sandy wants to sleep with her more than he does with me."

Barney gives her a funny look, "Ok, firstly, you're way hotter than Becky so this Sandy clearly has terrible taste, and secondly, Robin, don't be like that, you have to try. Promise me you'll apply."

She looks away, "Barney, it's not that simple..."

"Promise me."

The way he's smiling at her, softly, like he genuinely believes in her, like she's the only person in the world that matters, makes her feel surprisingly lightheaded and her stomach do something funny.

"Ok," she says, lips moving to a smile too, "I'll apply."

xxx

She applies the next day and then puts it out of her mind. Tells herself she doesn't care either way really. Life is good, life is normal, life is easy. She has a secure job, great friends, loyal husband. Why would she ever want to change that?

One day she'll look back and realise she should have known this was only the calm before the storm.

They're all at her and Ted's place watching The Karate Kid – more so Lily can fantasise about Ralph Macchio than anything, but also because the guys want to watch the cheesy fighting. Fighting is hot, she's known that for years, but she's paying less attention to the movie and more to Barney listing his '83 reasons why Johnny Lawrence is the hero'. They're laughing and eating popcorn – it's a good night.

So naturally it's just waiting to be ruined.

Ted gets a text, he looks at his phone, "It's from your dad, Robin."

She looks up sharply, "Why's he texting you?"

"He's visiting New York next week, he wants to catch up with me. Surely he's texted you the same thing?"

He hadn't.

The pain hits her with considerable force. Of course, of fucking course, the first time her dad's come down since his token appearance at her wedding (where he spent the whole time complaining about her and wouldn't even dance with her at the reception) and he only wants to see his son-in-law, because she's not good enough, she's never fucking good enough.

Ted catches a glance at the look on her face, "Well I'm sure he meant to. Come along with me."

"No, I'm not going anywhere near him if he doesn't want me there. I won't pain him with my presence."

"Oh come on Robin, don't be like that, family is family. You should try to reconnect with him."

She feels the tears prick at her eyes, because Ted just doesn't understand, he never will. Ted and his stupid perfect family, where the worst thing that happened was the world's most mellow divorce. Her dad's not family – not really – family means loving her and caring for her and actually wanting her. Her dad doesn't want anything to do with her and she can't, just can't, keep trying to win his love.

"If you just talked to him... explain..."

Fury rises up at Ted, how dare he do this to her? How dare he assume that it should be her that gives in to make her father happy? She's tried that, she's tried that for years and she just can't do it anymore.

She stands up, rushes out the door, ignores her friends calling her back and takes a cab to the shooting range.

She shoots a few rounds at the target through the blur of tears in her eyes, but her hands are shaking and her accuracy is off. She bites her lip, attempts to pull herself together, thinks about everyone who's let her down, who never thought she was good enough, who wants her to be something that she isn't. She thinks about her father, pulls the trigger, shoots a round of bull's-eyes, thinks of her mother, who divorced him – who took Katie but left her there – her next round is again almost perfect. Finally, without even meaning to, she thinks about Ted, fires one shot. It's a bull's-eye.

She checks her phone – there are about 7 texts asking her where she is, she feels a twinge of guilt – Ted didn't mean to make her feel like that – but she still can't face his patronising sense of self righteousness – the fact he never seems to understand. She texts him back to tell him she's ok, they're fine but she still needs to calm down, she'll stay over at a friend's tonight.

She leaves the range, waits for a cab. She'll go to Patrice's, a workmate, she figures – the woman is very annoying but she hero worships her and will give her a place to stay without demanding any questions (plus her cookies are sort of amazing).

She takes out a cigarette while she waits to cut the edge off her stress. Her dad (despite his cigar fanaticism) loathed cigarettes and had drilled into her how bad they were. When she had her first one she'd felt terrible about it – but it had been thrilling too – she'd got such a rush from doing something she wasn't supposed to – something her father would hate. So she'd ended up having another one a few months later, then on and off again whenever she was stressed or her dad annoyed her. As time went on it became less to do with her dad, but it's never been a habit, just something she enjoys once in a while, albeit something she knows Ted wouldn't approve of either.

A cab rolls up, but before she can go towards it Barney gets out.

He walks up to her, "I thought I'd find you here."

"Am I really that predicable?"

He pauses, considers, "Yeah, pretty much."

She smiles, because it means so much, probably much more than Barney will ever know. He knows her, he understands her, and it feels wonderful.

"Do you want to go back to mine and talk about it?"

"No, not really."

"Do you want to go back to mine and drink scotch?"

She smiles, the hurt and panic Ted has left in her already starting to dissipate, "Sounds like a plan."

The cab he got out of is still waiting (something about Barney's constant befriending of taxi drivers she assumes) so they get in and, within minutes, they're back at Barney's.

As soon as he gets in he pours her a scotch, they talk and before long they're laughing and flicking through the TV and she can barely remember why she was upset in the first place. It's just so easy sitting here with Barney - in a way it never has been with Ted, when she's here with Barney she can just be herself, nothing's expected of her. She knows she could say anything and it wouldn't stop Barney looking at her in that soft, gentle way he's looking at her now.

They're halfway through Field of Dreams (Barney's not having much more success in convincing her it's a masterpiece than Ted and Marshall have had) when she gestures a little too wildly and ends up hitting him on the arm. They both automatically turn towards each other and it's only then that she realises just how close they're now sitting. The both become very still, the movie blaring in the background completely forgotten.

She's reminded of the night she showed him 'Let's Go To The Mall', feels again the naked want to feel him on her, the sensation of his hands roaming her body. The forbidden desire, the chemistry that seems to care little for morals or marriage vows.

She meets his eye, can tell immediately from the uncomfortable expression on his face that he's thinking exactly the same thing. They're here again, perhaps they were always going to be, looking at each other with only two choices ahead of them. The sensible one would be to turn away, to awkwardly leave, to hope and pray this situation never happens again. The other...

She leans over and closes the distance.

He responds almost instantly, as if on auto-pilot, steadying himself by grabbing her shoulders, one hand slipping into her hair. They're only a couple of seconds into the kiss when he appears to realise who it is and pulls away, staring at her.

She feels the loss of him immediately, wants him back, so moves towards him again, only to be stopped by his hand on her chest.

"Robin, you're married."

 _That wouldn't stop you with anyone else,_ she thinks viciously. She's not letting him push her away that easily. She may be married, confined to relatively vanilla sex, since she was nineteen, but she's far from innocent. Ted was certainly not her first nor her best. Right now the memories of dark nights in nightclubs having wild, dirty sex with men who worshiped her body but whose names she never bothered to remember wash over her. How freeing it was. How powerful it made her feel. Robin Sparkles never had a particularly clean reputation and that was with her manager monitoring her image. Robin Sparkles knew what she want and she got it.

And right now all she wants is Barney.

She carefully moves his hand from the centre of her chest and guides it to her breast while she climbs on his lap and grinds.

She sees the lust flair up in his eyes, hears the groan forced from his lips, and feels her heart rate quicken and the heat fill her body. She grabs his tie pulling him towards her again, this time he does not resist.

His mouth is hot, his tongue is doing just what she likes, all thoughts and worries have been banished from her head and it just feels fucking amazing. As his hands slide down her back, cupping her ass, she tugs at his tie until it comes off in her hands and then starts working on his buttons.

He pulls back, not quite pushing her off his lap, but places his hands on her shoulders to stop her diving for him again.

"Robin, I can't... we can't... you know this."

The words hit harder than she expects. Now they are no longer connected and she's forced to think everything's coming back: Ted, her father, the longing, her mistakes, her small, stifling life – so different from what she wanted it to be.

She has to escape.

She moves back a little – looks him in the eye, "Please Barney," she says, "I need you."

It's only then that he draws her closer.

After that it's all a haze of moments that she'll never quite remember clearly: tugging at his shirt until she gives up and just pulls until it comes off – buttons flying everywhere in an attempt to reach the flesh beneath; taking off her shirt, unhooking her bra – Barney staring at her breasts in a way that sends a rush of heat all the way down to her groin; him picking her up – her legs secured tightly around his waist – and placing her on the bed; his mouth worshiping her body – her pulling him forcefully towards her, her teeth at his throat, begging him to enter her. Then it's just pure feeling. He had not lied when he boasted of his prowess, She's not had another man in over five years but she knows it's not just the appeal of the strange. He's better, much better, than Ted, hell maybe better than anyone.

She comes harder than she has in a long time and, for that moment, everything is perfect, she doesn't feel lost, like her life's off track. For that second she's exactly where she's meant to be.

When they finally collapse, sated and moments from sleep, it feels like the best decision she's ever made.

xxx

In the hazy moment just before she wakes up, she feels oddly happy and satisfied. She turns around and snuggles closer into the soft bed, her naked body feels good against the silken sheets... silken sheets... her bed doesn't have those... she opens her eyes.

Oh fuck.

She sits up alarmed, feels the onset of a panic attack as the enormity of what she's just done sinks in.

Last night, without so much as a second thought, she'd fucked Barney, she'd cheated on Ted, she'd become an adulteress.

Her breath comes in short gasps, how could she have done this to Ted? The nicest guy in the world, the perfect husband? What the fuck is wrong with her?

She feels the body beside her shift and sit up, "Oh hi," he says absentmindedly – then he realises who she is and does a double take.

For a few seconds they just stare at each other, the tension is palpable. His eyes move subconsciously to her boobs and she pulls the sheet up quickly to cover them as if that will protect her from all her sins.

"What have we done Barney?"

He tries to look causal (which works about as well as her plan of closing her eyes and wishing really hard that she's in her own bed next to Ted), "I just rocked your world baby," and gives the word's most feeble attempt at a sleazy wink.

She doesn't bother to confront him on the pitiful line, it's much easier taking it at face value, to place the blame more – or at least equally on him (the grim reality that last night she wouldn't take no for an answer isn't one she wants to face).

"I can't believe you, how can you say that? I'm a terrible person, I've just ruined everything. I'm married to the nicest guy in the world and I cheated on him!" She pushes herself out of the bed and scrabbles around for her clothes simply for something to do.

He moves around, uncomfortable on the bed, equally uncomfortable, "Shall we... are you gonna... tell Ted?"

"No!" she almost shrieks, he looks visibly relieved, "Ted can never know about this, or Marshall or Lily or anyone!"

He nods feebly, "Yeah... yeah, I can do that."

"We can just act like this never happened, it'll be fine, we can do this," she says more to herself than him.

He gets up, slips on pyjama pants and a t-shirt, she makes a conscious effort to look away from his naked body, despite the nasty voice in her head telling her there's really no need anymore (and the even nastier one desperate for her to continue looking).

"So, um... d'ya want coffee or something?" he says, "I think there might be some in the kitchen."

There's something almost like concern in his tone, like he cares, like she means something and she hates it. This isn't the way he treats his one night stands. She wishes he was chucking her out the apartment, activating some device to chase her if she wasn't fast enough, because then it would be so much easier to feel like the victim rather than the perpetrator.

"No, no, I just need to get out of here right now." She glances at the clock judging whether, if she goes to work now, she'll be too early. Decides it'll be fine – or at least better than the alternative.

"I can't believe I was so stupid, that I let you play me like that." She blurts at him.

She registers his hurt at her accusation but she's too panicked to care. She flees the apartment and heads straight for work. When she turns on her phone in the cab she's bombarded with texts and voicemails from Ted apologising for whatever he did to upset her (she can't remember anymore) and asking whether she's still at Patrice's – no one answered when he phoned (she thanks whatever sick deity that allowed her to do this that Patrice doesn't have an answering machine and was apparently out at the time). She immediately texts back that she's fine, she's on her way to work and she forgives him. She laughs humourlessly to herself at the irony.

All day at work she's distracted, losing track of what she's reading when she's on live TV (she's never been so glad in her life that no one – not even Ted ( _especially_ not Ted) watches Metro News One) and feeling sick to the stomach. Images of the previous night keep rolling through her mind, her and Ted and his stupid tactlessness, the fact he just didn't understand – which was nothing compared to what she did, running away to the shooting range – fucking throwing herself at Barney when he came, agreeing to go back to his place, looking at him, wanting him, leaning over and kissing him, seducing him – how the hell did she think that was a good idea at the time? And, despite herself, she sees their actions afterwards. She hates the way her blood pools in her groin at even the thought of it.

Just as she's leaving the building she gets a text from Ted saying they're all meeting at the bar. She seriously considers opting out and saying she's ill, but that would mean admitting it happened and she's not doing that. Anyway, Ted being the good (loyal, faithful) husband he is would come up and look after her and she just can't deal with that. So she grits her teeth, puts on her best reporter smile and enters the bar.

All four of them are there when she arrives, Barney jumps a little when he sees her, but she ignores him. She sits down, angles her chair towards Ted (away from Barney), apologises again for running out the night before and asks about everyone's day as if she hadn't been screwing a man who wasn't her husband less than 24 hours ago. She's a reporter – she's trained to keep people calm during an apocalypse, she can totally do this.

Barney (despite the fact he has apparently committed perjury at least five times) is less competent. He fidgets and stutters and casts panicked glances at Ted and her. She thinks about kicking him under the table, but she's terrified that if she gives him anything else to panic about he'll just full on blurt it out.

The others inevitably notice something's up, "What you doing there Barney?" Lily asks, after the third time he spills his drink on his suit and doesn't even comment.

"What Lily? I'm not doing anyone... anything... No one at this table has any reason to be concerned about who... what I've done. Look over there, there's loads of hot girls!" and he scrambles off to the other side of the room.

The others are suitably (thankfully) bewildered. But after a few curious glances settle back in to a regular conversation while she just sits there, trying to act normal and hoping no one notices that she's not following their conversation at all.

Eventually (she's not sure when, each second seems to be taking an hour) Barney returns to the table, still not looking anyone in the eye.

"Strike out again?" Asks Ted, grinning.

"No... yes, yeah, of course," he stutters, "You know me, I always strike out. I mean... no I don't, I have sex. Lots of sex. Lots of sex with lots of women you don't know..."

"You ok there buddy?" asks Marshall

"Yes, fine just fine... Well, I have to go, got to be up at sex... six tomorrow!"

The others look at Barney dash out of the bar with amusement, while Robin feels like she's going to throw up, "What do you think has gotten into him?" Asks Ted.

"Isn't it obvious?" say Lily, "He slept with someone he shouldn't have."

Robin's heart is beating so loudly it's a wonder the others haven't heard it.

Ted snorts, "Isn't that a constant problem for him?"

"Maybe this one's finally threatened to cut his balls off!" says Lily with a little too much excitement.

"Do you think it's that Greek chick he went home with on Wednesday?" asks Marshall, "She looked crazy!"

"Maybe she was more of a Medusa than a Aphrodite, if you know what I mean..." quips Ted.

"No, no we don't, Ted," says Lily, "Oooh, how about that woman he went home with last week who was _knitting_ in the bar? Do you think she threatened to stick her needles into his neck?" she adds still disturbingly happily.

Robin orders another drink and downs it quickly – hoping it will help her drown out the conversation and get her through this terrible night.

Finally it passes midnight, and it feels acceptable to leave, saying she should get some sleep. Ted immediately gets up with her and she finds herself resenting him for not letting her have time alone, and then guilty – because she wouldn't even need time alone today if she'd been a faithful wife.

And when Ted apologises once again and kisses her before they go to bed (thankfully he doesn't suggest sex) she just feels dirty.

 _I'll never do something that stupid again,_ she thinks.

xxx

The second time is just as accidental as the first, it's about a month after the first time, when she's firmly decided that the whole night never happened and she'd finally getting back to normal. She's had a terrible day at work, and is running so late that she hasn't even had time to go to the bar.

"Did you see it?" she asks Ted as she enters the apartment, already in full on rant mode, Becky had been annoying her so much today that she'd texted Ted and asked him to watch just so she had someone to share her fury with.

"Yeah, I did," he says slowly.

"Isn't she just the most annoying person to grace the face of the planet?"

"...I don't think she was quite as bad as you make out."

Robin frowns, she doesn't like where this is going, "She's so needy, so pathetic, I don't understand how anyone could like her."

"Well... she is somewhat endearing."

Robin splutters, "Endearing? She acts like she's five." At least she tries to act supportive when Ted drones on about work, she doesn't really appreciate being told she's wrong in this mood.

Ted shrugs, "I'm not saying she's perfect or anything, but she's sweet and a little needy. Men like to be needed sometimes."

"Needed? I've never needed you like that."

Ted's hesitation tells her far too much, "It's just a nice feeling on occasion. To be the responsible one, to have to look after the girl."

And her heart sinks, suddenly her anger at Becky turns to something else. Of course, because she's far too broken to be a proper woman, her father trained her to be a boy and that's the only thing she knows. She's imperfect, missing something, and even her husband thinks so.

She tries to continue being angry, if only to stop her voice breaking and the tears from flooding out, "So you're saying I should be more like Becky?"

"No!" says Ted, anger rising in his voice too, "You're deliberately misunderstanding me!"

"Really? Because what I heard is you'd prefer Becky as a wife than me."

Ted sighs in frustration, "No! All I was saying was it would be nice if you let yourself need me once in a while."

 _Let herself,_ because she's the problem, she's always the problem. She's just the girl Ted met who can't quite be the wife he wants. Just like she was the child who could never be the son her father wanted.

She doesn't know if she's more angry with Ted or herself, she just knows she can't face it any longer. She storms out of the apartment and hails a cab to Barney's place. She doesn't really know why, she just knows she needs to talk to someone who will understand her for who she is and not make judgements.

When he answers the door he's half naked and looks faintly annoyed at the interruption but one look at her face and his expression becomes serious. He turns to the girl sitting awkwardly on the couch in her underwear and tosses her dress at her, "You've got to go."

The girl glances between them before hastily pulling the dress over her head and storms out – throwing an angry glare at Robin.

Barney turns back to Robin, "What's the matter?" his voice is gentle, his face so achingly concerned – like she's the only person in the world who matters – it just makes her want to cry and tell him everything.

So she kisses him instead.

To his credit he does try to stop her. He breaks the kiss off a couple of times with feeble pleas of "Robin, please tell me what's wrong," and "We shouldn't be doing this," but she's insistent, his shirt was already off when he answered the door so she runs her hands down his abs –pushing herself closer, her lips melding with his, forcing her tongue into his mouth – and his protests turn into groans. When she undoes his belt and slips her hands into his pants he's already hard and she knows she's won. She pushes him down on the couch and pulls off her shirt, his hands immediately move to unhook her bra with a practiced ease. She smirks in satisfaction and works on getting him the rest of the way out of his pants.

It's fast and frantic and she's aware all the time it's wrong but it's just so fucking freeing, like she's in control of her life for once. She comes hard and, at that moment, the sense of victory is worth all her guilt.

Then she comes down and she just feels cold and empty and shameful. Finally she gives into her sobs, she buries her head in his shoulder, as if that will hide them from him.

"What's the matter?" he asks, gently, and then later, "Robin, please talk to me." But she ignores him, so he settles for pulling her closer, stroking her hair until her sobs fade away.

Eventually she pushes herself off him, puts her clothes back on and moves towards the door. Before she leaves she nods at him in thanks. He looks like he wants to say something but keeps his mouth shut.

This time it's easier to act like it never happened, she returns to Ted and apologises – as if apologising for their earlier fight will make up for what she has just done – and hates herself for the fact that, even now, wracked with guilt, she feels better than she did earlier today when she stormed out the door.

Later, at the bar, Barney twitches, avoids talking to her and Ted, then leaves early, but it's nothing like last time and it's easy to ignore. She tells herself that doing something twice is no more of a habit than doing it once, yes, she's an awful person – but she already knows that. It's no different to what she's done before, she just needs to continue to work on her slight adultery problem and it'll be fine. She'll be back to being happily married to Ted. She's got the perfect husband and she knows it. Any problems they have are only minor frustrations, they'll sort them out and then she'll have absolutely no reason for a repeat occurrence of those fluke instances where she slept with another man.

xxx

The next day Ted comes back from work with a bunch of roses.

"What are these for?" she asks, inspecting them as she finds a vase for them, they're proper big red ones, a little fancy for her tastes, but like something out of a romance novel.

Ted shrugs, "I was such a jerk to you the other day. I just wanted you to know I always appreciate you, needy or not. I wanted to let you know that you were the most important person in my life."

Robin pushes down the guilt that seeps up in her stomach. This is fine, this is good, she's turning over a new leaf and this is why, this is the sign she needs to stop any negative thoughts about their relationship – and any actions these thoughts may or may not have caused.

"Ted, you didn't have to."

"But I wanted to. Anything for my beautiful, perfect wife," Ted says drawing her into his arms. She relaxes into them they're warm, so safe, pull her away from the hardness of the real world. She smiles and kisses him on the lips (doesn't think about who else her lips have been kissing – not at all). He deepens the kiss, muttering about how wonderful, how beautiful she is all the while.

Yeah, she's fine. Ted adores her. She loves him for it. He loves her so much. She can do this.

She tells herself she really believes this.

xxx

She's on her way home from work one evening when she gets a call from Barney.

"Can you come over?" his voice sounds more gruff than usual.

"I don't know Barney, Ted and I were planning a quiet night in..."

"Please," there's a hint of desperation in his tone.

She bites her lip, wonders if it should be so easy for him to convince her into these things, decides it's best not to think about it at all, "Ok."

He opens the door as soon as she knocks. He doesn't look her in the eye, as he plonks himself down on the couch. She sits cautiously beside him.

"What's the matter?"

"Shit day at work." He says it with such vehemence though that she knows it's more than just someone spilling coffee on his suit or a secretary rejecting his advances.

"Oh, um, is your job ok? Will you be..."

He shrugs, "Yeah, no – it's nothing like that, I mean _I'll_ be fine I mean..."

She hesitates, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

She nods. He closes his eyes, pained expression on his face. She gently reaches out and grasps his hand. He visibly relaxes, leaning against her.

They stay like that for a long time. Neither of them talk, but they don't need to. It's this kind of comforting she understands. With Ted it's all "Oh Robin, what did I do wrong? I thought my parents were perfect for each other! Do you think it's my fault? Did I cause the divorce? Oh god, do you think Heather's ok? Should I talk to her too? Do you think she needs my support?" she never knows what to do then, she's no good with words or feelings, she's just awkward, tries to laugh it off – makes it worse. Ted does it with her too, wants her to talk about her feelings, understand why she's unhappy. She thinks talking's overrated, just being there, knowing someone else is there for you, sometimes that's enough.

When he opens his eyes, they're wide and innocent, still glistening, a little, with unshed tears. He looks at her, a little lost, a little sad.

She remembers that, despite what he'd like people to believe, he's human too. He has emotions and desires just like the rest of them. He has unfulfilled dreams and hopes too.

She doesn't like him like this, she likes the strong, confident man, who makes her laugh, who knows what he wants out of life and it's what he already has.

She understands it though, it's quiet in his apartment and she can read him; the loneliness, the fear, the endless need for someone to understand who you are, not who they think you should be.

She smiles at him softly, "You're a good person Barney," she says quietly, "you might not always show it, but I know you are."

This time it's him who kisses her. Gently at first, as if he's questioning whether he's even allowed to do it. And, vulnerable as he is, she hates him a little bit for it. He's giving her a choice, allowing her to say no when she all but forced herself upon (an admittedly willing) Barney. Most of all she hates herself for deepening the kiss, letting him slowly ease her out of her clothes and move them to the bedroom.

He takes his time, worships her body. He tries to look her in the eye when he's inside her. She looks away.

He falls asleep afterwards. She carefully untangles herself and leaves.

It's even easier to lie to Ted this time. Hell, it's easier not to feel guilty about it. This time she's not the one who's broken.

A few hours later she receives one text from Barney.

_Thanks._

xxx

"So my friend Gillian, from work, came in with the most disastrous blind date story today," says Lily, on Friday evening when she arrives at the booth.

"Was he fat?" asks Barney instantly, "Or worse, bald?"

Lily ignores him. "So, mediocre date, clearly there's going to be no second etc. But he walks her back to her house, asks if he can use the bathroom and then, a minute or so later complete naked, arms out, wanting her to sleep with him."

Barney suddenly perks up, "Did it work?"

"Of course not!" says Lily, "but apparently he claimed it works two out of three times. Said it was his move and called it "the naked man". Sounds like the work of a lunatic if you ask me."

"66 percent success rate and no costumes except the one you were born with? It's genius!" says Barney, already scribbling down notes on a napkin.

Robin scowls at him, "It's disgusting."

"Yeah," says Marshall, "like this man assumes the only thing between women and sex are clothes."

"All these plays, all these moves, and all I had to do was take off my clothes..." says Barney vaguely – apparently not really paying attention to the flow of the conversation.

"It's creeps like that who make me glad I'm out of the dating game," says Lily, "blind dates sound vicious."

"Being single was fun," Ted admits, "but I'm so glad I'm over with that, to know where my life is going." He puts his arm round Robin pulling her close.

Robin smiles and nods, tells herself she agrees with everything he said.

"Yeah," says Marshall, smiling at his fiancée, "it's nice to be settled."

Barney rolls his eyes, apparently back in the conversation now his way of life is being threatened, "Guys! Have I taught you nothing during this past year?"

"Virtually," says Ted.

"It is good to be single, monogamy is just for old people and swans. Keep your youth! Being in a couple is just an express train for dying of boredom – not seeing enough new boobs can do that to you, you know. I think Lily's friend should have just banged that guy and moved on. Next!"

"Yeah, but you're different," says Marshall.

Barney's head snaps to him, alarmingly fast, "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're not dating you're just hooking up with people. When you date you want to find your soulmate and settle down. I doubt you've even thought about settling down with someone since you cut off that hippy ponytail."

Barney's oddly quiet after that.

xxx

She hears the good news at the end of the day. She races from the studio and hails a taxi.

Not really thinking she tells the taxi driver Barney's address and all but runs to his door.

"I got it!" she says as soon as he answers.

He grins in reaction to her excitement, "Got what?"

"The promotion! I was so sure Becky would get it, but Sandy wasn't doing the interview, and the interviewer told me I was by far the best qualified for the job, said my interview was wonderful and I'd go far."

Barney's smile creeps even further up his face and he bites his lip, she can tell it's to avoid saying _I told you so_. Somehow this just makes her even more happy.

"That's awesome, so awesome Robin."

"And just, the first person I wanted to tell was you."

He beams at her, "Really?"

"Yeah, well you told me I could do it and you were right and I just needed to tell you straight away. I haven't even told Ted."

His face breaks out into a massive smile and, before she can even register he's swept her into his embrace and is kissing her, breaking off only to tell her how proud he is of her.

She's not even sure how they end up naked on his bed from there. They were just smiling and laughing and she was just so damn happy that holding him tighter, kissing him harder, just seemed the most natural, the most perfect, thing in the world.

It's never been like that with Ted, not even before this whole thing started. She looks at Barney, his arms still round her, not looking in any hurry to let go, feels something shift, feels that, without her even noticing, something has changed.

It's that thought that makes her pull away, she tries to ignore the fact her whole body protests at his absence, that Barney, so happy and smiling just moments earlier looks a little sad and lost as she puts on her clothes and bids him goodbye.

She knows this is going to come crashing down. That, even if they stop right now, there's too much mess – too many lies and uncomfortable truths – someone, maybe everyone, is going to end up hurt, but she can't stop, she's not sure she even wants to.

She remembers her parents: her father's mistress whom he made no effort to keep a secret, her mother, and her string of boyfriends who she took more effort to hide – but not much – she remembers the shouting: "You're not enough to fulfil me." "You ruined my life." "I wish I'd never met you."

She remembers sitting in the corner with her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to drown them out. She remembers wishing so hard that she could have different parents.

She doesn't know when she turned into them.

xxx

When she gets home and tells Ted about the promotion he smiles and beams too. He hugs her and kisses her tells her he's so proud of her but, however hard she tries, she just can't muster the same thrill she got when she saw Barney's reaction.

The guilt is overwhelming.

xxx

There's a celebration for her in MacLarin's the following day. She breaks the news to Marshall and Lily who congratulate her. Ted buys them a bottle of champagne, insists Carl brings them his finest glasses, Then raises a toast.

"To my beautiful, wonderful, amazing wife and her future career!"

Robin smiles at him, kisses him on the cheek, because this is what she wants, of course it is. Sweet, romantic Ted, who knows exactly what to do, exactly how to react to every situation, who supports his wife, dotes on her, shows her off when she does good.

She tells herself that Barney's smile doesn't seem forced.

As the night goes on they drink more and more (in celebration of course), Ted swings his arm around her and she snuggles close to him.

"So," says Barney loudly, "I think there are some drunk chicks over there that need my attention."

She feels an unexpected pang of jealousy shoot through her, "No, Barney, stay," she insists, "it's my party, you can't leave."

He shrugs, but stays where he is, perhaps gripping his glass a little harder than necessary, they have a few more drinks and, before long, she and Ted are even closer together, him placing light kisses on her temple.

She sees Barney's jaw set as he stares at them. Suddenly, he gets up and walks towards the bar.

Within minutes he's full on making out with the sluttiest blonde she's ever seen.

The others look over and roll their eyes before returning to their conversation but she can barely follow what they're saying. She forces her gaze towards the others, but out of the corner of her eye she sees his hand clasp the blonde's ass and her fists clench under the table.

And when he leads her out the bar she feels unexplained tears prick the back of her eyes.

That night, as soon as she and Ted are back in the apartment she tears off his clothes and fucks him hard.

Afterwards, she stares at the ceiling while Ted snores beside her, wondering if she's already passed the point of no return.

xxx

The next night he's scoping the bar again barely listening to a word everyone else says and, because of that, she's not paying attention either. Instead she's scouting talent herself, hoping no one hot enough to pique his interest comes in.

For the first hour or so it's going ok, she doesn't see anyone she thinks is more than about a six and she knows Barney only goes for those if he's particularly desperate or she's particularly vulnerable. Any time he seems at even vaguely interested she's able to distract him with by adding a dirty joke or two into the conversation.

Halfway through the night her luck changes, a girl walks into the bar, more boob than body – already half off her face. She knows before he even sees her what's going to happen next. And, sure enough, a second later he notices the skank and his eyes are on springs. She feels her heart sink and the irrational anger begins to make her blood boil.

He starts to get up, but, before she can even think about what she's doing, she places a hand firmly on his leg. Without once managing to disturb the others from the lively conversation they're having he glances at her, eyebrows raised. Then slowly, deliberately, he picks up her hand under the table and places it on his crotch. He glances at her again and the look in his eyes is clear, he's daring her, if she moves it he'll go to the bimbo – if she doesn't things will get interesting. She stays and is rewarded with a hand up her skirt.

They stay like that for the next fifteen minutes silently teasing each other under the booth. Consciously she knows it's terrible and she feels horribly dirty, but his hand there, moving in and out of her, just feels so good. And going at it, with the others in front of them, none the wiser, well it's sort of hot.

It takes her an alarmingly long time to realise one of the people she's in front of is her husband.

Jolted out of her ignorance she rapidly gets up muttering something about going to the bathroom, leaving him staring after her.

When she enters the, blissfully empty, bathroom she stares at herself, vaguely flushed, in the mirror. What is wrong with her? Even now her body and most of her brain is crying for her to return, to finish what she started with Barney.

She takes deep, steadying breaths, tries to ignore how aroused she still is, touches up her makeup and leaves the bathroom, resolving to sit back down as if nothing happened. And if Barney tries to put her hands anywhere near her again she'll slap him right away, let him sleep with that stupid bimbo. She doesn't care, why should she? She doesn't have feelings for him, she loves her husband. Barney means nothing to her, compared to the man she's been with for five years. She's never lapsing with him again, she's a good wife who's made mistakes – four mistakes in the past few months – but it's all over now, it's not a habit.

Suddenly, she is grabbed by the arm and pulled into the disabled bathroom.

Any attempt to scream is stopped by a firm hand over her mouth. Barney only lets her go once the door is shut behind them.

"What the fuck Barney?"

Barney doesn't reply, instead he looks at her so intensely that, at once, all her resolve crumbles.

She barely has time to lock the door before he dives for her. Mouth melding over hers as he shoves her against the wall, hitching up her skirt and pushing aside her panties. She has only just unzipped his fly and shoved his pants down when he slips on a condom and plunges into her.

She likes the way he dominates her, normally it's her who has to push him to be faster and rougher. The last few times he's acted like if perhaps he's gentler what they're doing isn't so wrong but this time his hands are holding her to him so hard that she thinks he might leave bruises and his teeth graze her neck almost viciously. She reaches under his shirt and scratches her nails down his back, wrapping her legs tighter round his waist hoping it will get him to screw her even harder. He complies and she moans his name.

She feels him grin against her skin in reaction, "Am I good, baby?" he says as he thrusts into her again.

She moans in reply.

"Am I the best you ever had?"

She's not even sure he knows what he's saying by this point, not sure he still knows who she is, but at the moment she doesn't really care.

"Yes," she groans and is rewarded by him speeding up.

"Tell me I'm better than Ted."

She falters, stunned by the question, though does not stop moving against him, "No! I'm not comparing you."

He stops his thrusts, for a second she's confused then she becomes annoyed, she attempts to buck against him but he pushes his body against her, pinning her down.

"Tell me."

Does he have no shame? Isn't it bad enough they're doing this when she's married? When Ted is less than 50 metres away? The husband she's betraying is the last person she wants to think about right now. She doesn't want to play Barney's sick mind games. But he remains still and she really needs him to move.

She glares at him, "I can't, you're not as good as him."

He smirks, but there's a dangerous glint in his eyes, "Robin, I can tell when you're lying." He moves again, only to become still a moment later.

She groans in frustration.

"Tell me I'm better than Ted," but this time there's something more than manly bravado in his voice, something more like greed – or desperation.

She doesn't want to think about what that means.

"Urgh fine, you're obviously better than Ted, now can you just fuck me already?"

xxx

When they finish they're both panting. He stares at her for a long moment before pulling up his pants, redoing any buttons she'd pulled open in an attempt to get to his flesh, gives himself a quick onceover in the mirror and then walks confidently out.

She retouches her makeup, sorts out her clothes and hair and follows him a minute or two later as if nothing has happened.

It alarms her how easily they can both slip back into acting normal now. It alarms her even more than no one has even suspected them.

She sneaks a glance at Barney and feels her whole body heat up just by the way he's looking at her. She's playing with fire and she knows it. Sooner or later they're all going to get burnt. All she can do now is attempt to put up some safety measures, hope she's strong enough to keep to them. That she even knows how to.

xxx

In the weeks that follow he's much calmer. He still looks vaguely uncomfortable when she and Ted are too affectionate, but the anger is gone. And, although he's as lewd as ever he doesn't pick up any more chicks in front of him. This pleases her much more than it should.

It doesn't matter, she tells herself, the only advantage is she can sort things out with Ted without being on the receiving end of Barney's angry looks. She stays closer to Ted, even attempting to listen when he talks about stupid stuff, pushes her way back to her normal, safe, sensible life.

But when she and Ted make love, whenever she closes her eyes it's always a blonde head she sees, a self satisfied smirk always painting his face. She bites her lip and tries to keep the unexplained tears out of her eyes.

xxx

In early July Ted has a conference overnight in Philadelphia so the rest of the gang are at MacLarin's to keep her company. It's a good night, drinking and laughing and making fun of Ted in a way that they'd not be able to get away with was he here (or at least without him sulking).

It's nearly midnight when Marshall and Lily decide to leave. They ask her if she wants to walk out with them, there's a second or two when she knows she should accept, but she's comfortable here and it's been a while since she's felt so calm and happy.

"No," she says, "I'll stay." She doesn't miss the small smile that spreads on Barney's face.

It's been a while since they've been alone together, she has a feeling he's been trying to avoid it as much as she has, but tonight they've had just enough to drink that they don't even feel that few moments of awkwardness when they realise it's just them. They're immediately back to talking and laughing, jokes a little lewder than before Marshall and Lily left, leaning together a fraction closer than they would in front of the others. It's easy, just so easy being with him, the hours go by in a flash and before they know it, right when they were still in the middle of a conversation, it's last call.

"Want to come to mine for a while?" He asks It's not an invitation for sex, it never is, he knows that as well as she. It's an invitation to continue the night, because being together is awesome, they worked that out long before all the sex and lies and cheating got involved.

Even so she hesitates for a second then shrugs, "Sure, why not."

It just happens. Up until now she's has some vague, pitiful, excuse for doing it – Ted's made her mad, she's not been thinking straight, Barney started it – but this time he's just sitting beside her on his couch, making some terrible joke, she laughs, turns to him and sees him with that little grin on his face. It just seems so natural to lean in, thread her arms around his neck and press her lips to his. He doesn't bother to fight it either – he just pulls her closer, moves his hands under her shirt and eases it off so they only need to break their kissing for a second.

They take it slowly, taking the time to explore each other's bodies. When he does enter her it's careful, gentle. He looks her in the eyes when they're together and for the longest time she does not look away.

It's less awkward afterwards this time. She doesn't stay the night but it takes her nearly five minutes until she can be bothered to get up from the bed. He gets up with her, puts on his clothes too. He offers her a drink before she leaves, she declines, though politely. He kisses her goodbye. She's smiling as she leaves the building. She only realises how weird this is when she's in the cab, halfway home.

Perhaps that's what freaks her out the most.

xxx

He's different around her now. Not in a way anyone else can see, but she notices, he's more careful around her, more attentive, smiles more when he sees her, laughs harder at her jokes than he ever did before. Sometimes she catches him looking at her – not in a sexual way – almost as if his eyes have just happened to fall on her. Worse, sometimes she feels like she's staring at him in the same way.

She draws away from him – talking to others when they meet up, rarely replying to his texts, getting Ted to text him if they arrange a group meet up and makes sure that, under no condition, she's left alone with him.

She goes one, two, three weeks without sleeping with him, considers this an achievement.

She focuses on Ted, on how much he loves her, on how much she loves him, on everything he's ever done for her. She's affectionate, supportive, tries so hard to be a good wife.

She tries not to think about Barney, about how he can make her snort with laughter or make her feel so much better, so special, when she's down. When he smiles at her adoringly, in a way that just makes her melt, she puts it quickly out of her mind.

Yet even after all this, somehow this is feeling more like a betrayal than ever.

xxx

When she wakes up on July 23rd she's greeted by Ted coming in the room with breakfast in bed.

"Happy birthday Robin."

She sits up, eyeing the pancakes and maple syrup with relish, "Ted, you shouldn't have."

He laughs, "Of course I should have, you're my wife and it's your birthday. Isn't there some law saying all good husbands have to do that?"

"Does this law include the husband doing all the dirty dishes?"

"Only for you Robin, only for you."

Ted sits down on the bed beside her, his own plate of bacon and eggs on his lap, it reminds her – with a jolt, of their honeymoon and just afterwards when it had been so calm, so blissful, with Ted. just knowing he'd be there, to love her, forever.

They're distracted by her phone vibrating on the dresser, she reaches for it, checking her messages.

"It's from Barney," she opens it, _5 good years left._ She snorts, shakes her head.

Ted reads it over her shoulder, "Urgh, really? Does he always have to be such a misogynistic jerk?"

Robin wonders if she should share Ted's reaction, be a little more insulted, but it's hard when he makes her laugh like this. When she just knows it's all for fun.

 _Really?_ She texts back, despite herself (it's a birthday text, it deserves some form of recognition).

After Ted's returned to the kitchen she gets the reply.

_Ah, you got me Robin, even at 50 you'll be the hottest cougar around ;-)_

She puts her phone down then. Goes to the kitchen to help the husband who just made her breakfast in bed, tries to push any thoughts of the other man in her life out of her head. The one who can send shivers of want down her spine just from one vaguely suggestive text.

xxx

Ted's waiting for her outside of her building when she finishes work, a limo beside him. He holds the door open for her as she gets inside. She notices the bottle of champagne and the glasses on the seat.

"Wow, you're really doing this properly aren't you?"

Ted smiles at her, maybe a tad smug, "Of course I am."

When they get back to their building he takes her hand and leads her up to the roof. Suddenly the rest of her friends (and quite a few people who she's sure she's never seen before in her life) jump up, with overly enthusiastic shouts of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

She turns, grinning, at Ted, who beams at her, "You're a quarter of a century old today Robin, that deserves celebrating."

"Urgh, you're making me feel old," she laughs.

Ted rolls his eyes affectionately, "Oh come on, you know you'll always be beautiful to me."

Her smile becomes fixed, "Yeah, yeah I know I will."

The rooftop party goes on half the night, there's Canadian whisky and a Canadian band and her favourite type of cake and Ted's really just gone all out. Ted's such a good guy, such a good husband – the best one a girl could ever wish for – so much more than she deserves. As the night goes on she just feels like crap, how could she be doing this to him? Ted loves her so much, it should be enough, it really should be. Why isn't it?

She tries to avoid Barney all night. Whenever she does glance his way he's on his own, oddly quiet, his eyes determinedly not meeting hers either.

When the guests finally leave Ted takes her hand and leads her down from the roof. Their apartment is covered in rose petals and candles. The stereo is playing the music that, Ted has told her many times, was playing in the bar when they met (she can't remember herself). There's a swooping sensation in her stomach which makes her feel sick, she grabs onto Ted's workbench for support.

Ted mistakes her reaction for pleasurable surprise and pulls her close, "I knew you'd like it. I wanted to make sure you knew just how much I love you."

She forces her mouth into a smile and closes the distance between their lips, because apparently her only other option is violently shaking, "Thank you Ted, I can't believe you did all this for me," she says, hoping she doesn't sound too hysterical.

Ted beams at her, "Oh it's nothing, you deserve it. You know Robin, I don't say this nearly enough, but you really are just the perfect woman – the perfect wife."

And she can't bear it anymore, because here she is in the perfect scene – like something out of a romance novel – with the perfect man – a nice, romantic guy that any girl should want – but Ted's wrong. She's not perfect. She's the one thing about this scene that isn't perfect. She's just the confused broken girl who can't even stay faithful to the man who loves her – the man she loves – the man she married.

The words come out before she knows what she's saying, "I've been sleeping with Barney."

There's a second, before the words truly sink in for either of them, where they just stare at each other, frozen. Then she sees the smile drop off his face and she wishes she could take the words back – to laugh it off – pretend she was just making it up (sometimes she wonders if she is), "Not very often," she babbles, "just a few times, mostly when I was fighting with you – like the time my father wanted to visit and the time when you said I wasn't needy enough – I just needed some company and he was there and... I'm so sorry Ted."

Ted's face is, understandably, still stony as he simply stares at her in shock.

"Say something Ted, please."

"I've got to go," he says finally, and storms out the door.

xxx

Ted doesn't return for three days. She doesn't leave the apartment, barely eats, just lies crying on her bed, surrounded by melted wax and withered petals – pondering how much she fucked up her life – how much she broke Ted because she was just that selfish. She ignores the texts of concern from Lily and Marshall – she doesn't deserve them – this is all entirely her fault. On the second day they come up and knock on the door, she screams at them to go away, they do not return. She hears nothing from Barney.

She doesn't know how to react when Ted returns just as suddenly as he left. She looks up from the sofa she's lying on, face still tearstained, as he enters.

"I'm sorry," she says instantly, "I'm the worst person on the planet."

He shakes his head, "No, it's not really your fault, I shouldn't have fought with you like that – I guess it was my fault too, for putting you in a position where he could take advantage of you," he sits down next to her, reaches out and takes her hand, "Robin, do you want to try again?"

She nods, because she owes him that much, though she's far too cowardly to correct his assumption that Barney was the aggressor.

"Ok," he says, "Marshall and Lily would like to see us at MacLarin's again when you feel up to it," when she can only sniffle in response he pulls her into a tight hug and shushes her, "don't worry, we'll get through this." She relaxes into his arms – her world slightly less shattered than it was a moment ago – he still loves her, he forgives her, she undoubtedly doesn't deserve him but the comfort of his arms is too much for her to let go of.

xxx

The atmosphere is tense when she returns to MacLarin's. Neither Lily nor Marshall mention it but their disapproving looks and the notable absence of Barney says more than enough.

She struggles through the next few weeks – doing everything she can to make it up to Ted – putting up with the thought of Lily and Marshall judging her whenever she sees them. It gets better every day, Lily and Marshall's disapproval slowly leaves as Ted's hurt fades into the background. A week in Lily cracks and asks her what it was like with Barney – she refuses to talk about it – no one mentions him again and she never finds the time to correct their implicit assumption that he seduced her.

xxx

Three weeks in, just when she thinks it might go back to normal, she's leaving the Metro News One building when she sees an achingly familiar figure in a suit leaning casually against the building waiting for her. She tries to duck out the other entrance but he's evidently seen her and soon he has her cornered. Sighing, she looks at him expectantly.

"You told him," his voice is less accusatory than she expects.

"It just sort of came out," she looks down for a second before scolding herself and looking into his eyes, "it's for the best though. I can finally be honest with Ted and we can sort things out."

"You're staying together?" the sharpness in his voice is what she'd expected from him earlier.

"Of course I am," she says, slightly indignantly.

"Why?" he demands.

She glares at him "He says he's forgiven me. I love him – we're going to work it out."

"Do yourself a favour Robin," he says bluntly, "don't."

She feels her anger rise, "Oh, and it's obviously your business what Ted and I do with our lives then?"

"No," he replies, annoyingly calm, "but the two of you don't work, you never have, you're just too different, this is why this happened in the first place. You're not doing yourself or Ted any favours by staying in a relationship that neither of you really want."

"And I suppose you know what would work for me?" she asks darkly, "Are you saying you know what I should do with my life better than I do?"

He sighs, "Robin, do you know how many girls I've slept with who have had daddy issues?"

She rolls her eyes then glares at him furiously, "Enlighten me."

"All of them – well almost all of them, if you count step-daddy issues, and then there were a few with mommy issues and that one with grandmommy issues, she was really dirty..." She sighs and taps her foot impatiently, and he speeds up, "the point is Robin, that out of all those women, I've only slept with one that became a teenaged popstar. I mean – don't get me wrong – your songs were incredibly lame and you didn't make it out of Canada, but you did it. You put it all behind you and fulfilled your dream because you are the strongest, most awesome woman I have ever slept with. You have so many more dreams to fulfil Robin – you're not going to achieve any of them if you move back to Lameville with Ted. You deserve so much more than that."

She blinks at him, for a second speechless, a voice in her head screaming that he's right. But he simply doesn't understand the complexity of it all – she loves Ted – she promised to spend her life with him. She's not going to let him down just because she once wanted to travel the world especially not now – not after all of this, "I'm still saying with Ted," she says finally.

For the first time she sees the anger flair in Barney's eyes, "Fine Robin, waste your life, go back to the mediocrity you secretly hate, just don't expect me to be there next time you need to use someone as an escape."

She funnels the massive wave of hurt she inexplicably feels straight into anger, "Oh don't claim you're so innocent," she says dangerously, "don't deny you were using me too, so you could pretend to be Ted."

"Ted?!" He splutters, "Why would I want to be anything like Ted?" but he won't meet her eyes and she knows she's got it spot on.

"You were using me so you could pretend you had your own perfect little family life, that I actually was your wife," she continues viciously, "so you could actually fool yourself into thinking – for a moment – that you were a normal human being."

She's not quite expecting the look of pain that passes over his features before they turn cold, "If you think that was all this was, that there was nothing more... well... goodbye Robin." And he storms off into the distance.

And she's left there alone – surprised to find there are tears in her eyes – because she still doesn't know what she feels for him but she knows she wasn't just using him as an escape either.

xxx

So life goes on. She and Ted go from tense to less tense until, if she's careful, she can sometimes forget what she's done. Ted never mentions Barney and she and the others follow his lead.

If she misses him she doesn't let herself go there.

But it's always there, unspoken, lingering in every fight they get into (they seem more frequent nowadays). They're fights they should have had years ago, ones that make her wonder how she ever thought him similar enough to her to spend the rest of her life with. She lets him win more easily than she ever used to – because he deserves it after what she did to him.

In February the national correspondent position gets her a job offer in Chicago. It's the perfect opportunity, one she's been waiting for, for years. She rejects it without even consulting Ted. She knows he wouldn't want her to go. She steps down from the promotion too, goes back to just being a reporter, because what's the point?

Ted's happy – so she's happy, and she won't tell herself anything else, because she's never opening that can of worms again, not after last time. She can live out life in New York in a mediocre job perhaps forever – for the love of this man – so she will never have to go through the divorce and the horrible life afterwards that her mother had. Being a pop star wasn't how she imagined, nor was her job in New York – why even bother leaving her comfortable life to try any of her other dreams if she knows they'll never be as good as she expects?

xxx

It's been nearly a year when Marshall and Lily's wedding rolls round. She's maid of honour, of course, and she's intending to a good job – hey, she survived her own wedding – she can manage another. She certainly isn't thinking at all about the fact Barney had vowed to seduce all the insecure bridesmaids because that would just be stupid – she hasn't seen him for months – and, anyway, he's not invited.

And, aside from the thoughts that may or may not be going through her head, the beginning of the day is going fine (ok, apparently the harpist is in labour and the flowers are going to be late, but she's been a bride herself, she knows that as long as there's not a natural disaster heading directly for the church then it's good news), until she goes to see the bride.

Lily sees her coming, beckons her and then all but pulls her inside.

Robin gazes at her friend and gasps, "Lily! You look beautiful!"

But Lily barely seems to hear her, "Robin, I don't know if I can go through with this."

It's the last thing she expects to hear, from Lily of all people, "What? Why?"

"I just don't know if I'm ready, there was so much I set out to do before I met Marshall – to travel, to become an artist – but I didn't do any of it."

"Lily you're being ridiculous," says Robin – because she is, she's Lily and she's been hopelessly in love with Marshall for as long as Robin's known them, "You've dreamed of this day for years – you've told me so! You love Marshall so much – he's your best friend in the world! And it's just marriage – it just means committing to the person you love – it's not going to stop you from doing the things you want. It's not going to stop you painting or... or from travelling or from fulfilling your dreams." there's a lump in Robin's throat and she doesn't know why.

Lily relaxes a little but still doesn't look entirely convinced, "It's just what if we get married and then – five, ten, twenty years later I realise I'm not right for him?"

And suddenly Robin realises Lily's real question " _You and Ted were supposed to be happily married but you cheated on him. What if I do that to Marshall?"_ She knows it's only in this last moment of panic that Lily's let even the thought of this question slip, but it still hurts that she thinks of her this way. What hurts more though is she just _knows_ this won't happen with Lily and Marshall – she knows why too.

"You'll be fine Lily, you and Marshall and perfect for each other. You're best friends, you love each other, faults and all, not just in spite of them." _You two are different from Ted and me – you always have been._

Lily looks at her for a long second, and Robin's unable to tell if she's heard her unspoken words, "Yeah you're right… yeah… that's what Barney said."

Her heart only races because she hasn't heard any of them speak his name for nearly a year, "Barney? When did you see him?"

Lily looks down guiltily – making sure not to meet Robin's eyes, "I… um… there was this art course in San Francisco, and I wanted to see if I could get in – and there was an interview in New Haven so I drove there one night but I got a flat tyre. I tried to call you but you weren't picking up, so I called Ted – but he was with Marshall – and I just _couldn't_ tell Marshall. Then, when I was wondering what I could do, Barney just turned up – I've no idea how he knew – I didn't phone him or anything – I think he must have cameras in our apartment or the Fiero or something…

Anyway, he just came up and asked if I was running away. I tried to deny it but he just looked at me – you know the way he does sometimes when he actually lets on that he can be serious? He... he told me that Marshall and I belong together – that we had a sort of love that most people spend their whole lives searching for and still don't find. That it would be stupid for me to throw it away because I was scared and he couldn't stand to see that happen. He just wouldn't stop until he made sure I knew he was right.

He was of course." she adds quietly.

"It turns out he didn't actually know how to change my tyre, but he paid for my cab ride home and assured me he knew a guy who could change the tyre and get the car back before Marshall even noticed. Then he made me swear never to tell anyone what he'd done – something about ruining his reputation."

Robin's heart aches, for reasons she doesn't really want to explore, all she knows is that Barney looked at Marshall and Lily and saw the same things she did – the relationship, the way they love each other – they have everything they've ever wanted right there in front of them.

Lily studies her carefully, perhaps seeing something in Robin's shocked expression that even Robin can't quite admit to.

"It calmed me though," says Lily finally, "What I've got now is only the last trace of jitters. I'll be fine. I'll go through with the wedding with no regrets. I figure if even Barney thinks we work together then we really must be doing something right."

"Yeah," says Robin, "Barney's normally right about those sorts of things."

They enter the church, Lily content and excited, Robin oddly quiet.

Robin stands behind Lily quietly observing. She sees the way Lily looks at Marshall, at the way Marshall looks at her. She sees them smile as they take their vows. Sees that, despite the hall being filled with people, all they can see is each other. She sees them in the future, living their life, raising a family – wherever life takes them – and she knows they're, never for a second, going to regret this moment – they're never going to wish, deep down, that it hadn't happened at all. She looks at them and thinks about her and Ted and she just knows.

xxx

She waits for a few days after the wedding to bring it up.

There's less shock and outrage on Ted's features than she expects, more reluctant acceptance – as if he was expecting it to happen – as if, maybe somewhere, he just knew too.

When he asks why she finds her answer ready, "The two of us don't work, we never have really, we're just too different. I don't even know if I ever wanted to be married – but if I did, I'd want someone who'd travel with me – who'd help me make my life an adventure – who wouldn't want me to settle down. And I'm not enough for you Ted either – you deserve someone who can give you what you want, who wants to settle down and have a family with you – who you don't have to give up your dreams for. We're not doing ourselves any favours by staying in a relationship that neither of us really want."

He's silent for a long moment, "I know," he says finally, "I guess I've always known really."

They look at each other, simply watch as the six years of masks and illusions come tumbling down.

"Did you love me?" The earnestness in his tone brings tears to her eyes – because their relationship may have been built on shaky foundations but they existed and, no matter how many things she hides from herself, she won't ever deny that.

"Yes. I still do." And she does – if it wasn't for Ted she'd probably be living on the streets, stealing to get the money for her next fix. For the fallen pop star with more family issues than she could count on one hand, Ted and his love and support had saved her – she'll always love him for that, "It's just… it's not enough."

He nods, "Do you love him?" his tone is not accusatory. She doesn't need to ask who he's talking about.

And she finds herself hesitating, Barney's never been like Ted – nothing is simple with him. She thinks about the way Barney understands her, how she feels like she can tell him anything; she thinks about his inappropriate comments – how they always make her snort with laughter – no matter how lewd, she thinks about the way he smiles at her – the way it makes her feel like she's the only thing that's important; she thinks about the taste of his lips, of his body on hers, the way it feels different from everyone else. But she also thinks about the uncertainty, the other girls, the jealousy and the hurt about how it's sometime hard to even like your own reflection never mind love it.

So she goes for the easiest answer, "I don't know."

Ted offers her a sad smile.

"This isn't because of him though," she adds, after a pause, "we'd be here anyway, maybe not right now – but we'd have realised eventually."

She takes his silence as agreement, she understands such signals – it's hard to break denial.

Ted looks like a child who has just been told fairytales don't exist, "This is the end isn't it?"

Robin nods.

xxx

The divorce is settled amicably. They divide their assets just about in half. He gets the apartment and she gets the money to rent a small but comfortable loft on the opposite side of town. They both stare at the contract for a good minute when their lawyer presents it to them before she recovers, calmly picks up the pen and signs, he hesitates just a second longer and then follows. As they leave the building they take separate cabs going opposite directions, they say quick goodbyes – make promises to remain friends that neither believe. She doesn't cry until she's flung herself on her new, cold, empty bed – she wonders if he's crying too – he probably is, pathetically. It's just not fair, she's lost so much more than he has; Marshall's going to side with Ted, Lily might give her a call once in a while but she'll stay with Marshall. _Barney would have sided with you_ says an annoying voice in her head – but she hasn't seen him for months so that's neither here nor there.

It's been six years since she moved to New York and, for the first time, she has no reason to want to stay. All she has left in the city is a crappy job – she tries to quit it – she picks up the phone three times and once even gets halfway through dialling the number before she puts it down, it's the only thing she's got left of her old life.

She settles into a routine with this new life. She wakes up, goes to work, talks politely with her co-workers (she didn't really want them to know but it's hard to hide a divorce when you're using your maiden name again), gets off work, goes to a bar – any bar (as long as it's not MacLarin's) and reaps the benefits of being a hot chick not wearing a ring. Sometimes she goes home with a guy – most often she doesn't because, despite the fact there's nothing wrong with it anymore, it just seems so pointless, so empty and, when she kicks him out in the morning, the apartment just seems full of wasted opportunities and forgotten dreams.

xxx

She bumps into Barney a month or so later. Well maybe not 'bumps' because that implies it was an accident and she's long since learnt there's no such thing as accidents when it comes to Barney Stinson.

He greets her as he always did, bright eyes and charming smile – as if their last meeting had never happened – he tells her about his latest laser tag tournament where he came third and would have come higher if the stupid referee hadn't given him a penalty for knocking over the kid and what she's sure is an exaggerated story of his trip to California a few weeks before. What goes unmentioned is the paleness of his face and the weight he's lost – she wonders whether it's because of Ted or her, or maybe both of them – God she hopes it wasn't because of her.

He also doesn't mention any women he's picked up.

"And how are you doing?" he asks, when he finally stops for long enough to let her get a word in edgeways.

She just looks at him – she may have fucked up her life and her dreams and her marriage but she understands Barney – sometimes she thinks he's the only thing she does understand – and there's no way he hasn't found out.

He gets it instantly, because apparently he can still read her too, "Ok, I heard a few days ago."

"I'm surprised it took you so long."

"I'd have found out sooner – I know a guy – but he was on holiday," he pauses for a second, "you ok?"

His voice is gentle and concerned, non-judgemental, never judgemental, she hadn't realised how much she missed him until this moment.

"Not quite yet, but I will be."

He smiles and it's so much softer than the one people normally see, she wonders why he doesn't use it to pick up chicks – because it always makes her feel like she's the only person in the world that matters.

"I know you will," he reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope, handing it to her.

"What is this?"

A little more mischief enters his smile, "A little 'congratulations, you're no longer bound by the lame institution of marriage' present."

Slightly cautiously she opens it and then gasps – she's holding a voucher for a million air miles. For a moment she's speechless.

"You said you wanted to travel – I thought these would make it easier."

"But Barney I can't accept this, it's so much..."

He snorts, "Please Robin, GNB employees have to travel to North Korea and China so often, this isn't even a scratch on our funds."

"A million air miles – do these vouchers even exist?"

He grins and winks, "Not to the general public but I know a guy."

"Barney I don't know if I can..."

But his smile is soft and kind again, "You should go Robin – fulfil your dreams."

Still slightly dazed, she hugs him tightly, "Thank you Barney... for everything."

"And I'll have you know I speak six languages so, if you ever need my help, well... my number hasn't changed," the nervousness in his tone is well hidden but she notices.

"And how do I know you just won't tell me how to say rude things instead of what I want?"

"Why Robin Scherbatsky, I am offended that you think so little of me! That I would attempt to embarrass an honoured friend in such a mean and hilarious fashion..."

And she's laughing like she hasn't in weeks, "I don't believe a word of that."

He pouts, "Well I'd tell you the truth sometimes..."

They just beam at each other for a few moments more before he excuses himself to go back to work.

"Good luck," he says, before leaving as suddenly as he arrived.

Her smile takes a lot longer to fade.


End file.
